Love lost Love found
by dreamingneverends
Summary: Hermione is dumped by Ron on the Hogwarts Express, and none other than Draco Malfoy comforts her. Watch their relationship bloom and see who they really are!
1. The train

**Author's note: I have no idea how you actually use this so if anyone would give me information or help me then I wil be grateful!**

**I like almost any and every couple/pairing. So, if you want some really cool comments on a story or something, tell me what it's called and I'll read it and comment on it!**

**Speaking of comments I'd love to have them, even the critical ones!**

**Back to pairings, my favourite (at the moment!) are** **Draco and Harry. **

**However this is not a Draco/Harry but a Draco/Hermione story.**

**So, on with the** **story...**

Chapter One:

"I still can't believe that the both of you are taking Advance Potions next year!" The red head boy exclaimed, looking at his own timetable.

"Ronald, for the last time, drop it!" Hermione scowled at her boyfriend before putting her suitcase in the cubby hole above her.

Ron looked across the compartment at Harry, who just shrugged.

Hermione had been very snappy and impatient ever since the train had left Hogwarts. A lot of the time she looked remarkably close too tears.

Neither of the boys knew what it was because she had closed up, but she had changed. It only dawned upon them the previous night, when they discussing crying, and then they realized that they hadn't seen her cry since their third year, when Buckbeak had been beheaded.

Of course after going back in time they saved the Hippogriff and Harry's godfather who had been framed as a mass murderer. Now, they were leaving their sixth year behind them, and going home to six glorious weeks of the summer holidays before returning to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their 7nth and final year.

Harry saw the look in Ron's eyes and shook his head.

"You know, I don't know what's been going on with you lately Hermione."

Hermione spun round to face her boyfriend. He continued.

"First of all, you didn't talk for weeks, then you didn't eat properly, you still aren't, and now you won't come round mine for the holidays!" Ron moaned, loosing control of his temper and he stood, yelling the final clause of his speech.

Harry, who at this moment in time agreed with two's a company, three's a crowd, saw a look in Hermione's eye, a look that was rarely there, Hermione, too had lost control of her very, very, patient temper.#

"I'll have you know Ron that I have tried getting out of holiday with my parents but they insist on me going, like I have told you a thousand times! And frankly with you being like this I'd rather go there then go back to the Burrow with you!"

Harry sat there, watching the fight in despair.

"Fine then!" Ron yelled.

Then he stepped towards Hermione, towering over her, Harry saw something in Hermione, a flinch, a fear.

"If you don't come round mine this summer, we're finished." He said, quietly, in an almost whisper but it was still sharp and it hurt Hermione even more then his yelling.

Hermione looked into his eyes, her own filled with tears ready to pour out, plea in the chestnut colour.

"I can't." Hermione whispered. She took Ron's hand but he pulled away and sat down in a corner, looking through the window, determined to not look anywhere else.

One more whisper left Hermione's lips. "I'm sorry." And with that she turned and pulled open the compartment door, only to see a confused Malfoy, bumping into him, she looked into his eyes, step round the side of him as tears escaped, and ran down the corridor.

Draco closed the compartment door and sighed. It had to be here somewhere, he would kill Goyle for loosing it.

He reached the last compartment door on the long train and was about to open it when he heard shouting from inside. He instantly recognized the voices as Weasley and Granger.

After thirty seconds of hearing the argument he knew that Weasley was in the wrong.

Draco had an opinion for everything, even if it was just hearing thirty seconds of a couple dispute.

Whatever reasons Granger had for not going to Weasley's they must be important, Hermione Granger never got in a fuss about nothing, and from the wobbly notes she was hitting, it sounded very much like she was in such a state.

The argument died down and very soon after Granger opened the door with such force.

Draco frowned at seeing Granger.

Her chestnut colour eyes were watering and already she had a tear falling down her cheek.

He then realized that she had bumped into his hands were on his arms. She looked up at him and stared into his eyes, only for a second. But in that second Draco saw pain and fear and he wasn't sure how to describe it other than she had no hope in her brown eyes, they were dull if all the life and joy had gone from them.

Hermione stepped to the left and rushed passed him, where she broke into a run down the corridor.

Draco felt, sad. Sad for Granger. He gave Weasley a piercing look before going after Granger.

"Granger!" He chased after, he had know idea why, and was thankful that everyone else was worn out and had retired to their own compartments.

He saw Granger dive into one, and he knew there would be no one in there because it was the prefect one, and, all the current prefects were with their friends in the lower years, saying their final goodbye. Just as the door was about to shut on him he pulled it open, stepping, he closed it quietly behind him.

It was dark in the compartment and with a wave of his wand he turned on the light.

It was a nice dim glow, not bright, but not dull either.

He found Hermione Granger curled up in the furthest corner, head buried in her knees, her arms hugging them tightly. Draco cleared his throat.

"Granger? You all right."

He saw her look up and panic, clearly she had not noticed that he had come into the room behind her.

And Granger not knowing that was just so… was so out of character.

Which clearly meant something was wrong with her.

She didn't bother wiping away her tears that her streaming down her cheeks, she just looked up at him, crying silently, not the normal body heaving up and down or loud wailing noises that every girl in his house made, but just sitting there silently, tears fall.

"I need an answer you know. He paused. "Or not."

He looked over at Granger and within two graceful strides he was kneeling down in front of her.

"Your not all right are you?" He said quietly, brushing a tear from her cheek.

Sighing he stood up. And saw another feeling in her eyes.

Fear.

Was she that scared of being on her own? He had always thought of her being so independent. But he wasn't going to leave, even before he saw that look in her eyes.

Instead he sat down next to her, put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

She buried her face into his chest where she cried even more. Draco put his other arm around her, into a sort of embrace and soothed her.

"Shhhh. It's okay." He didn't even think about what he was doing, he just knew that Granger was upset and that she needed comforting. And even if on the outside Draco was an obnoxious, stuck up, spoilt brat deep down he cared about people, and deep down it broke his heart to see someone he had known for even years in such a state.

He began talking to her, to get her mind off of things, off of whatever it was on her mind. He told her about how in potions he stupidly put night bloom in and then added a blue tit feather.

He carried on from there, just telling her little funny stories, making sure his voice was quiet and soothing. And that was how she fell asleep, in his arms.

Hermione woke up.

She knew she was in the arms of the bully of whom she had been the favourite victim, but at that precise moment, she didn't care.

He had soothed her, he had comforted her, when she needed to be held and be able to have a good cry. She felt like Malfoy was protecting her, Malfoy was protecting her instead of her best friend, her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself.

She pushed up off of Draco Malfoy and rubbed her eyes.

"You were only asleep for an hour." He answered, before she had even asked the question.

She was on the edge of tears again. She had to pull herself together, she was Hermione Granger for Christ's sake!

"Your really not okay are you?" He pulled her back into an embrace as tears once more escaped.

It was because he understood that she needed to cry without being seen, but not be alone.

Soon after she stopped, sat back up again and sniffed. Her left cheek was on her knees, which once again had her arms wrapped around them.

"Ran out of tears too cry?! He asked, slightly teasingly, too lift her spirit up.

"You know, if your not going to answer it means that I may well be talking to myself, which results in me being a madman? Do you want me locked up in some loony bin, having lost my mind?" The normal Malfoy would have said it harsh and stiffly but he said it lightly, as a joke.

Hermione thought about it.

Draco Malfoy locked up because he had lost his mind. She laughed at the thought.

Malfoy would never loose his mind.

She couldn't help but laughing as she pictured him wide eyed and confused staring at doctors in white coats.

It wasn't a big laugh just a small one, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

"I'm glad you take comfort in questioning my sanity."

And both of them chuckled, Draco rubbing Hermione on the back, as if too say well done, you laughed.

The door opened and a certain red headed dumper walked in. Draco saw the look on Weasley's face.

"Problem Weasel?"

Hermione could feel Malfoy tense slightly, his arm was still on her back, but no sign of the tension could be seen in his body or face.

"You know I was going to give you a second chance. But seeing you in here with him, well, you can forget about it!" His voice rose towards the climax of his speech, as it often did talking to Hermione nowadays, and he left, slamming the compartment door behind him.

Draco was about to make some snide comment but managed to close his mouth before it came out. He glanced at Hermione. For a moment, she looked like she might cry again, but then he saw a flicker of fire in her eyes, and heard her take in a sharp breath.

"You know what? I haven't done a bloody thing wrong and I'm not going to take crap from someone who is so up himself. If he can't accept that I will not, cannot, spend every bleeding second of every bleeding day with him then he is just a stuck up pompous. He's almost as up himself as you Malfoy." She exclaimed.

Then she realized she had just insulted the boy who hated her but had been there for her in her hour of crying. Malfoy grinned and they both fell back onto the sofa laughing.

"Sorry." She said, after they had calmed down.

"Hermione, you don't need to apologize for anything." Draco lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

She smiled, it was a small, sad smile. The kind of smile you get when you know you won't get a dog for your birthday, but your disappointed not to see one anyway, the kind of smile you get when you remember your recently deceased grandmother who you loved so much. A sad, small smile of acceptance.

"You don't need to say sorry for anything, anything, unless you feel have too. Okay?"

Hermione gazed into the blue eyes that seemed so soft and filled with kindness.

"Okay." She managed to say.

They held their gaze, Draco's hand still underneath her chin, until quiet suddenly the train stopped.

They both fell onto the floor.

They got up off of the cold tiled floor and shook their heads, smiling.

Hermione rubbed her arms as she realized how cold she was.

"I need to get my stuff." She said, a panic quickly spread her face but it died down as soon as it had come, leaving a worry there.

Draco thought it was funny how he could almost follow a line on her face with his finger, and say, that's where your worry is.

It started in the middle of he left cheek, went in a straight line across her nose to her co right, but it also ran down the delicate bridge of her nose.

She looked at Draco, and he quickly stood up right, not noticing just how closely and observantly he was staring at her worry line until she had laughed.

"You know, I think there might be a room in a hospital for you after all." They both smiled at the comment.

And even though she had laughed, and come up with a comment, he could still see the worry line, and he wanted to get rid of it. Not because it made her ugly or anything, but if the worry line disappeared then he knew she would feel better then she was presently feeling, even if it was just a little better.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked. She looked up at him. She didn't answer, she didn't need too. He watch the line across her cheeks and nose fade slightly until it was hardly there. He smiled, he had made Hermione feel better.

He didn't know why but he felt proud of himself, proud of Hermione. Luckily everyone was too excited to notice that Draco Malfoy was following Hermione Granger to the back of the train.

When they reached the last part of the train they walked past Weasley and Potter.

Weasley completely blanked Hermione and then purposefully nudged Draco.

Potter walked up to Hermione and gave her arm a squeeze before hugging her. "My uncle…" Harry began. Hermione shook her head.

"Don't worry, I'm fine, go on go before your uncle has a heart attack. I'll write." Hermione said.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Harry gave another her another squeeze before leaving. Just as he passed the boy he rested a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Listen Malfoy… thanks." He then joined the other hurries kids but not before he saw Draco smile.

They reached the very last compartment and went in.

Hermione tried to swallow a lump in her throat.

Draco saw how nervous she was. She reached for her suitcase and couldn't get it down. She managed to grab the handle, but her body had finally drawn the line. The exhaustion that her body had been building had been up to finally cracked on her. She fell to the floor. Her suitcase remained in the cubby.

"Don't worry. I'll get it down for you." Draco reached up and pulled down the suitcase, it wasn't heavy, and Hermione was strong. So why wasn't she able to get it down?

Hermione watched Draco's lean figure reach for her luggage. She couldn't help but notice the muscles he had. He put the suitcase on the floor and helped her up from it. Instead of letting her go he pulled her towards him gently, with his arm around her waist his other reached for her chin.

He raised her face so she could see him. Bending his neck down slightly his lips meet hers. They were soft, sweet, pure. It wasn't anything more then a light kiss, no tongue or heat or desire or lust.

"See you next year Hermione."

And he turned, leaving her smiling, waving goodbye he left to go in search of his own stuff.

Hermione meanwhile stood in that compartment and her fingers touched her lips. She didn't know why or how but Draco's kiss had made her feel appreciated, made her feel good, made her feel special.

She pulled up the handle on her suitcase and made her way down to the main doors of the now almost empty train. She left the train and found herself on platform 9 and 3/4s.

Once off the train Hermione left the platform, and entered the muggle world.

There were loads of students she knew hanging about in the car park. She saw Harry climb into the back of his uncle's car and wave. She saw Ron with Ginny loading up their light blue car that could fly. She turned away to see Neville with his grandmother in a bright green Beatle. She saw Draco nod at her as he got inside a shiny black limo.

What she didn't see were her parents.

She sat on a bench and waited.

And waited.

After an hour had gone, and then another one, she reached for her mobile phone which was in her pocket.

She flipped it up only to shut it as there were no missed calls or messages. Anxiety grew in her stomach, and as sunset reach the train station she phoned another time, this time her call was answered.

"Hello?" Her mum's voice sounded sharp, fed up.

"Hi mum, I was wondering when you were going to pick me up."

She moved the phone away as she heard her mum scream at her dad.

After their roaring Hermione began to talk.

"Mum it's okay, I'll get the train."

As abuse flowed through the phone and into Hermione's ear she switched off. After the buzzing noise had calmed down and there was silence at the other end Hermione ended the call. "I'll see you tonight." And with that her mother hung up.

No apology or good bye or love you. Sighing, Hermione turned around and headed once more into King Cross station.


	2. Home sweet home

**Author's note: Here, I hope you like it, it gets better after this chapter!**

**Author would like too say she is trying to write small paragraphs, not big block ones but old habits die hard. But look! She's getting there... kind of... almost...maybe.**

**Disclaimer: Jk Rowling owns all the cast, books etc and this is being written simply because I love Harry Potter so much!**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter 2:

Hermione struggled down the road, tired and worn. She didn't think about her parents and the house she despised so much. She didn't think about how she hated coming home every holiday or that Ron had dumped her. The only thing that she would let her think about was sleep. Her own bed. Her own world.

Soon she was at her house, lights were on and the tv was blaring. She stood outside, taking a deep breathe before opening the broken gate and walking down the path.

She shut the door quietly behind her. "Hey guys." She gave a tired smile. Her father grunted and turned back to the tv, a beer resting on his over-sized belly. She sighed and leaned against the door frame.

"Don't do that!" Her mother snapped, grabbing her glass of wine.

"And what time do you call this?" Her father pouted, Hermione couldn't help but wince at the fact her father only cared about her once a programme was finished and credits not worth looking at scrolled down the screen.

"The second train was late. I tried ringing." She explained. Not that they cared or listened.

"Well, I'm going to bed, get some sleep before packing tomorrow." Hermione said after a long pause.

"We've been meaning to talk to you about that." Hermione knew it wasn't good when she saw her parents glance at each other.

"Hermione, we are going to Italy but the hotel we were going to stay at was a bit expensive. So, we made a deal with the owner, nice chap by the way." Her father continued, her mother nodded eagerly.

Hermione knew, she just knew, that they had made some kind of deal, that involved her.

"Well the owner of the hotel, Mr. Schambey, owns a whole company, kind of, of them. The hotel I work out he also owns, that's why he was so kind to us, so he's offered us a very generous deal."

Hermione hated it when they done this. They rambled on and on and never got to the punch line.

"So, we're going to get a holiday there. We pay very little for it and we work a week and get the next week free." Her father said.

Before Hermione could say anything her mother cut in.

"I am going to be a maid, your father a bar tender and you, well we said that you were excellent at teaching and you loved music. So, your going to be the music instructor at the camp they have there for kids. Isn't that lovely? You don't mind do you? Oh I can't believe how lucky we are. We get to meet him and his nephew, I was told he was very fond of his nephew. Oh, and we're getting paid a little for our services!"

Hermione, who was very smart had nothing to say. There had to be some kind of twist. Who in their right mind would make that kind of offer? Knowing her parents and their mood swings she didn't say anything but secretly doubted they would have a good time.

"That's great." She smiled and her parents positively glowed.

"Is there any food?" She asked, curiously glancing into the kitchen. All of the sudden she had become hungry for the first time in weeks. Her mother turned to her father. Hermione bit her lip, she had said the wrong thing.

"Yes. Is there any food Mark?" She tapped her foot on the floor impatiently.

"How the bloody hell should I know?!"

"I don't know, because you were supposed to go shopping yesterday!"

"You want it so much why don't you GO AND GET IT YOUR BLOODY SELF!" He stood up, dropping his beer that would make yet another stain on the cream carpet.

"Because I work all day while YOU SIT ON YOUR ARSE AND DO BUGGER ALL!"

"FAT LOAD OF GOOD YOUR JOB DOES US!"

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A LAZY, PIG HEADED…"

They carried on yelling as Hermione closed the living room door, she had no desire to hear parents insult each other, and as quickly as it had come, her appetite had vanished. Instead she hauled her Hogwarts trunk up the old, creaky stirs and into her room. Once in there she deposited it in front of her bed and then sat down on the squashy, ancient bed. She began taking her shoes off and talking to herself at the same time.

"How are you Hermione? Did you have a good school term?"

"Oh yeah, it was great, thanks for asking." A tear slid down her cheek as she pulled her curtains, and not bothering to undress she flopped onto the bed exhausted, and fell asleep. The last thing she thought before falling asleep was how exhausted did she need to make herself before she could get to sleep. The answer was simple. Very.

Hermione woke up and looked around her room, she had been too tired to look at it the previous night. Same old bed in the middle of the room, same old white walls and wooden floor with a big white rug in the middle. Her lamp on the bedside table was still there, with the alarm clock.

She looked at the photo of her, Ron and Harry. There used to be a wizard photograph of the three, showing them having a good time and talking, but that had upset her mother who had thrown it into the fire because it was freaky. So, the current one stood there, unmoving. She looked at the blood stain on the wall near the window.

She remembered that day so well. It was her third year at Hogwarts and she was home for Christmas. On Christmas eve her father had come in yelling at her, saying how dumb she was, how she would never achieve anything. Hermione could only whimper at her father's drunken rage. He was so mad because she had not been there to sort out the bills. Hermione had a feeling it was something else as well, but she never knew what.

Her father had grabbed the nearest thing near him, which happened to be her guitar, and whacked her around the head with it. The guitar snapped in half while Hermione had been knocked back by the force, and hit her head on the wall. Her father panicked and she was rushed to hospital. She needed 12 stitches in the side of her head. Her father had disappeared while they had been put in and she remembered being very upset that he wasn't there. The drugs had made her fall asleep and when she next woke up it was Christmas day, and a brand new guitar was in a brand new case at the end of her bed.

It ended up being the best Christmas ever. She played the guitar while her and her parents sang songs, until, at last she was allowed home, walking into a big roast dinner and seeing her grandparents. Of course her grandparents died between then and the next Christmas, but they had left her a trust fund, and she was allowed when she turned eighteen on one condition. In their will they had said Hermione or any lawyer, in fact, no one, was to tell her parents about the money. Hermione herself was bewildered at the idea, but kept her promise, as she had made it on beside her grandfather, when he was on his death bed.

She picked up the guitar now and strummed a few notes. Smiling, she left her room for a shower.

Once dressed and her hair plaited Hermione grabbed her keys, wrote a note and left.

She walked the 2 hour walk from her house to the nearest ASDA in one hour and 12 minutes, that was new record. She spent her time in the super market, looking at all kinds of food.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger? Is that you?" she turned to see a boy, tall, but then, she was short so most people were tall to her. Then she saw the brown hair and the brown eyes and the birthmark above the right eye.

"Liam?" Her best friend when she was at junior school, she had not seen him in five years.

He gave her a hug and talked on for ages about his dog, and his parents and all of his sisters. Hermione used to think he had loads of sisters, but it was nothing compared to the Weasley family.

"So, where do you go to school now?" He asked, studying her.

"Oh, I go to a boarding school." She said, laughing, slightly nervous.

Liam just stared at her. "Your completely different."

"Well, you haven't changed a bit." She replied and they laughed. They both turned as a girl called his name.

"Liam, honey, who's this?" She put her arm around Liam and one knee stuck out. Hermione instantly saw the blond haired girl as a very rude, selfish person.

"This is Hermione. We were best mates back in year six. Wow, that seems like forever a go." Liam slung is arm round her.

"Hermione?" The blond looked her up and town, a hint of amusement in her eyes before carrying on. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lorraine." She hugged Hermione, almost making Hermione choke. Lorraine had far too much perfume on.

"You know, I don't think I've seen you around school." She said.

"Hermione goes to boarding school. She always had brains that one. Came top in every test, did all the work right." Liam chipped in.

"Oh, and she's an amazing singer! We were in choir together. She has the most incredible voice."

Hermione turned red. "I… I don't sing anymore."

"Why not?" Liam's jaw dropped open, and it refused to shut.

"I just don't." Hermione answered.

"Anyway, we need to get going or else we'll miss the bus. Nice to meet you." Lorraine hurried, pulling Liam away.

"Later Hermione." He called, waving before turning round and falling over, knocking down a display of cans in the process.

Hermione gave a small chuckle, same old Liam, before turning away.

Hermione had just put away the shopping when her father came down stairs.

"You're a good girl Hermione."

Hermione put the kettle on and waited for it to boil.

"Me and your mother, we do try. But it's just… hard." He said.

"Dad, it's fine. We're going on holiday tomorrow, let's worry about everything else when we get back eh?"

"Yes, your right."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"We do love you."

"I know dad."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you too."

Her father pulled Hermione into a hug, and finally, she felt as though she had been welcomed home.

Hermione was so annoyed, her parents weren't any better than a couple of kids.

She was waiting in the back of the car, hoping her parents would hurry up and get a move on. Her father was loading the boot with Hermione's one suitcase, his two, and trying to fit in her mother's third.

"What do you need three suitcase for anyhow?" Her father asked, huffing and puffing with the third suitcase.

"You can't go to Italy without shoes." Her mother pursed her lips.

"Darling? I'm going to have to put this in the back, is there any chance your flute can move over?"

Hermione sighed and moved her flute next to her guitar on the floor. She put her feet in front of the cases so they would not roll about in the car.

Finally, after another ten minutes of bustling they were off.

As the car sped passed houses and trees and open fields and busy main roads Hermione, for the first time, allowed herself to think about what happened on the Hogwarts Express. She thought of how Ron dumped her, and how Malfoy comforted her… and kissed her. It was only a light, soft brush on the lips, but it was still a kiss, from Malfoy. At the time if felt right, but that could be because she was hurting from Ron. Did she like Malfoy? Was it unfair on Ron if she did?

She just wished she could have someone to talk to about these things, her grandparents or a little sister or a friend. But, that, she guessed, was asking for too much. She leaned her head against the window and let the vibration of the car push away all horrible and mind boggling thoughts. Closing her eyes she tried to get some decent sleep.

It didn't work.


	3. Meeting Mr Schambey

**Author's note: Author would like to take this moment to say thankyou very much for all the wonderful comments, and after a lager and lime ice lolly and a glass of orange squash is ready and raring to go!**

**Abi is very good at writing about nothing, and this chapter, in some people's eyes, is boring. Abi is very sorry if it is boring to people who take the time to read but Abi feels that she must develop and introduce the characters more first, being the english nerd she is. **

**Please note that Abi has read and trued very hard to keep short lines, not big block paragraphs like she is used to. Please say if they are too big or too short.**

**Abi would like to say that she is upset that no one wants to talk about films or books with her. She'll just to have to annoy her friends by talking about it at school.**

** (Unlucky Hannah!) **

**(This is normal now, wow it feels weird, I don't know why I am talking in third person about myself but I am and it is becoming a bad habit for me. If you don't like it then I apologize.)**

**At the end, Hermione's dress isn't described because that happens with a twist in Chapter fou! So keep reading and making your comments and the fourth one will be here soon!**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter three: Meeting Mr Schambey**

Hermione gasped as she stepped out of the car. The hotel was huge and glorious. It was remote, it's own fields surrounding it but only an hour away from a city. Hermione looked at the cream pillars and Italian writing on the front. _Welcome to Fields of Gold Hotel. _

"Mrs Granger!" A man called and Hermione's mum turned round. "Mr. Schambey!" Rachel, Hermione's mother, kissed the man on each cheek and her father shook his hand.

There was something about Mr Schambey, his eyes were a stormy grey, reminding her very much of someone's else's, but she couldn't quite grasp who. He had mouse coloured hair, round and quite chubby. Like a young Santa clause without a beard. Of course Hermione looked at him discreetly, and the fact that she could tell he was a warm-hearted, friendly and generous but firm man within a matter of seconds.

"And who is this lovely flower?" The man said, taking Hermione's hand and pressing his lips against it.

Hermione blushed, her cheeks pink from being described as a flower, grew deeper until they were red when his lips met her hand.

Hermione was shocked, it wasn't every day something like that happened. Men were far too proud do show etiquette, or at least that from of it, nowadays.

"Has the flower no voice?" The man asked teasingly.

Hermione managed to speak.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Hermione." She lowered her eyes to floor, embarrassed.

The man clapped his hands together, as though delighted by the name.

"And what a fine voice you have. I expect you'll be putting your wonderful box and lungs to good use this summer?" He rubbed his belly and looked at her.

"I… I don't sing anymore." Hermione stumbled, her face still red.

"You don't? Oh, I was hoping you'd teach music during camp hours." He dropped his head.

"Mr Schambey of course I'll teach music. There many aspects, not just singing." Hermione told him.

"That right there, ladies and gentlemen, that is a natural teacher!" His eyes sparkled once more and they walked into the hotel.

Hermione walked behind her parents and the old man. As she walked up the large, stone steps she thought about him. She thought it was quite strange that he could change his mood within a matter of seconds. It was almost as if he could change it at his own will.

"Isn't that lovely Hermione?" Rachel exclaimed, turning to face her daughter in the entrance foyer.

"Sorry?" Hermione looked up, confused, all three adults were staring at her.

"Mr Schambey said that he's invited us to dinner as his special guests, and he's given us our own suit." Hermione's mother repeated, clapping her hands together.

Hermione noticed this notion, clearly it was a catching habit, one she did not want to do herself.

"Ah. The suit is for the two of you. To have a break, from the girl. Not that she's any trouble mind you. Hermione will be on the floor below in a lovely room, because, all the other suits are currently being used or are booked. I hope that is alright with the two of you?"

He looked in the direction of the two parents.

"Oh that is so thoughtful of you. Thank you for everything your doing for us." Hermione's mother glowed.

The man bent down and kissed her hand, his head lingering for a moment, Hermione thought, before standing back up.

"What will the dinner be like? It's just that I didn't pack any formal clothing, I didn't realize it would be so… so…" Hermione trailed of.

"Magnificent?" The stormy eyes gazed into Hermione's own hazel's.

Hermione nodded. She honestly hadn't thought her parents would take to such a place.

"Not to worry. I tell you what. I will let you and your mother have a girl day. I will pay for a shopping spree, two outfits and accessories each. That sounds fair doesn't it? Now, you must buy in the hotel's shops, there are plenty here, my sister in law designs clothes. Now, anything you buy, just use this. " He handed them a credit card.

Hermione and Rachel's jaws dropped open in unison.

"Ah, no arguing. It has been decided. Think of it as a welcome present. Just tell everyone what a splendid time you had and it's such a shame October and September are going to be quiet and peaceful at the hotel. Meanwhile, how about a game of golf Mr Granger?" He asked, clapping his hands together.

"Of course, I love golf. Please call me Mark."

"Splendid. Come on then old chap."

"Mr Schambey? We cannot possibly accept such a generous offer!" Hermione protested.

The man closed Hermione's hand around the credit card.

"Nonsense! And, I shall be very, very offended if you don't buy anything. I will meet you here ate Seven sharp. Seven that is. Okay? Now be off with you."

And with that Mr Schambey himself walked away with Mark.

**Later on whilst shopping:**

Hermione could not believe her luck. Her mother and her found the shopping floor. There were precisely four clothes shops, one beach wear, one formal, and two filled with everything else, a café, a proper restaurant, two bars and a gift shop.

"Bloody hell!" Rachel put her hand to her mouth and turned slowly around, trying to take in the scene.

She dragged Hermione into the formal dress shop. It was huge. They began to admire the silk, cotton, every colour imaginable dresses.

They spent hours there, Rachel finally picked one, it was deep green and low cut. The v neckline came right down, eventually it stopped just above her cleavage. The dress clung in and hung out in all the right places, the silk material flowed around her legs and feet at the bottom. It was complete with two thick straps that went over part of the shoulders to meet the low back of the dress.

Hermione's mother loved it the instant she saw it. Of course she loved others but that was the one she kept coming back to.

"Hermione!" Her mother whined, once again holding up the dress against her, looking in a floor length mirror. "It brings out the colour in my eyes."

"But look at how expensive it is!" Hermione once again reached for the price label.

"Hermione!" Her mother stamped her foot.

"Fine!" Hermione snapped and turned back to look at the dresses.

She couldn't choose between two.

The first was a white, cotton one. It was light and strappy. It would go lovely with white sandals and a white headband. It would come to her knees and flitter out slightly if she were to spin around in it.

The second was a deep midnight blue, the material silk, the dress came to the floor, sweeping along whenever you walked. It was a halter neck and had two thing stringy pieces that would tie up at the back in a light, small bow.

"Hurry up Hermione! I want to go and look at the jewellery. And bags, and shoes!" Her mother squealed.

Hermione sighed and looked up at her mother. Something caught her eye and despite herself, she smiled.

Her mother spent ages in the jewellery section, trying on all kinds of expensive and heavy stuff. The same went for the bags and shoes. Hermione kept shaking her head and sighing but gave in to everything. Which was very unlike Hermione.

After a few more hours they finally finished and retired to her mother's suit.

"Hermione, will you straighten my hair?" Her mother asked, desperately.

"Go and wash it." Hermione folded her arms and rolled her eyes as her mother squealed. Hermione thought that her mother was very much like a child. Like Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. Hermione chuckled. She looked around the suit while her mother showered.

She looked at a large grandfather clock. The time was already half five. Where had the day gone? It slightly stressed Hermione when so much time passed and she never noticed. It didn't happen very often.

Her mother was out the shower and in a white fluffy dressing gown. She sat on a stool in the bedroom. The stool belonged to the most beautiful dressing table. There was a central mirror and two more either side, turned to be at a certain angle which allowed the back of you to be seen as well as the front.

Hermione plugged in the straightners, picked up her mother's handbag which had been thrown on the floor, took out her mother's hairbrush and looked at the hair products in one of the draws. She picked three and placed them on surface of the dressing table after squirting one on her mother's long hair.

"What are you doing?" Her mother coward away from the bottle.

"Relax, it protects your hair from the heat."

"Oh."

Hermione gently brushed out all the tangles and squirted a bit more on. She then blow dried it snd began straightening, the long hair.

As she done this Hermione wondered where she got her mouse coloured hair from. Her mother's was a rich brown while her father had very dark hair. It certainly wasn't from either of them. Her mother's rich brown hair was thick and wavy, perfect unlike Hermione's bushy, frizzy hair.

Her father had flat hair, which, recently, had started to fall out. Hermione smiled slightly every time she saw the growing bald patch at the crown of her father's head. His hair would look presentable for another few years though.

Hermione finished her mother's now straight hair by putting some shine spray on it. Hermione envied her mother, she would never have her mother's full lips or green eyes, she would never have her mother's rosy cheeks or perfect round shoulders.

"Hermione, would you like make-up on?" Her mother asked, retrieving her own massive make-up bag.

"No thank you."

"You know I never did see your dress. I left before you brought anything."

"Hmm."

A silence hung in the air as Rachel's attention turned to pampering her face.

"Goodness me! Look at the time. Go get ready, go on, shoo." She rushed, although she remained sat down on the stool, perfecting her lip liner.

"See you later."

"Remember, 7 'o' clock. Entrance foyer."

"Your not coming to get me on your way down?"

"Heaven's no! It will take me too much time, I need to try to make myself look beautiful now."

_No you don't. Hermione added in her head._

"7 'o'clock. Entrance foyer." Clearly Rachel wasn't going to say anything else so Hermione left.

Hermione went to her own room for the first time. She dumped her suitcase on her bed and wanted to look around.

Realizing she didn't want to be late and figured she could check out her own room later she went straight in the shower to wash her hair and shave her legs. She wrapped a towel around her body and then her hair, after the enjoyable, hot, steamy shower.

She glance at a small clock hung on the wall and gasped at the time.

Deciding her hair would have to be left natural she carefully pulled her dress out of the bag, laying it on her bed and accompanying it was clean underwear.

She sat down on a stool, in front of a much simpler dressing table, but it was still better than anything she had ever had. And began brushing her own hair.

She scrunched it up with her hands, so the hair formed loose, pretty, free curls. They were natural curls, no the perfect ringlets produced with curlers, but she liked the surpassingly pretty look she had created with her hair.

Once it had dried completely she put on her dress, decided to paint her toe and finger nails, and then brush the left side of her hair back, and pin it with a small, red rose. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her small purse like bag with her mobile and purse inside it, opened the door and locked it behind her.


	4. From another's eyes

**Author's note: Oh dear. Chapter four is here people! Abi does hope that everyone enjoys it. And is pleased to say chapter five will be out soon! **

**Abi has had great fun at school today, talking in third person to her friend's and science teacher, causing lots of confusion.**

**Abi's no sure what to say (that's a first!) other than she hopes you liker her work, and keep an eye out for even more, if you like it, that is.**

**She had a huge Harry Potter brainwave at school and came up with four other stories, and she wrote down lots of notes about them all. But she would like to get this one finished before starting others, but would like her readers (if there are any, Abi hopes there are!) to be aware that she does have new material, and will be displaying it soon, ish.**

**Anyway, here's chapter four!**

**Enjoy...**

**Chapter four: From another's eyes**

He couldn't believe he was here, waiting for one of the people he despised, or, at least, he thought he did. He came back to earth when the woman gave a cough and began talking to his uncle.

Draco Malfoy was waiting in the entrance foyer of his uncle's hotel, in Italy. Finally, his father had allowed him to spend the summer holiday in Italy with his uncle.

Draco preferred his uncle to his father any day.

And at that moment, he was standing their with his uncle and two muggles, waiting for none other than Hermione Granger.

He was more amused by this then disliking it. Which, he found again surprising. He himself was wearing black, tight jean-like trousers, black shiny shoes, and a white cotton shirt with the top three buttons undone.

Even though they were done he did not look scruffy, he had ironed it so that the unbuttoned part of his shirt folded outwards, making him look very presentable.

His white blond hair was swept over his stormy ice eyes and the back of it almost reached the base of his neck.

His father used to make him wear it all scraped back, but, Draco hated it, and much preferred how it was styled now.

His father. Draco didn't know why but everyone at school was under the impression he loved, cherished, adored and worshiped his father.

He, in fact, felt the very opposite to his father. He obeyed his father, out of fear not love. He didn't want him or his mother to end up hurt because of his father's short temper.

Being caught up in his silent ramblings about his father Draco did not hear Hermione be announced but turned when he heard Mrs Granger let out a small gasp. He turned round, to find his eyes rest on a very beautiful Hermione.

The candle light flickered against her skin, making shadows all up and down her frame. Her black dress was off the shoulder, but rested around her arms. The top bit was lined with a red streak.

The dress stopped halfway between her thigh and knee, the material cut curvy, in a sort flamenco style. The sleeves were long but instead of clinging to her wrists they opened up and he realized that the inner part of the sleeves were slit to the elbow, allowing the black material to flow below sharp elbows.

She had black sandals, they were more like flip flops, but nice with curls around the top her foot, going all away round the back to secure the heal.

He noticed the candle light flickered and shined her red painted toenails, and fingernails which clasped a small black purse with a red stripes going down it.

Her clothes were stunning and she was drop dead gorgeous, but he never did care for what clothes a girl wore. Of course she had to be presentable, but he hated girls like Pansy when it was all they ever worried about.

But what he noticed most, what he liked most, was her face and her hair.

Her face was clean, fresh. Free from the pain and worry that was on her face not a week ago.

Her hair was beautiful, loose curls with one side scraped back, complete with a small, not a big over the top, but a small, delicate rose pinned in her hair.

The loose curls were flicked behind her shoulders and gently bobbed up and down, the natural blond and brown catching the light, making it shine.

Granger herself seemed very surprised to see him.

"Malfoy?" It was more of a, hi, how come you're here, I'm not being rude, just confused sound.

Her look proved her tone.

"Granger." He have her a nod.

"You two know each other. Splendid!" Mr Schambey said, clapping his hands together.

Both Hermione and Draco caught each other smiling at the gesture and gave a small chuckle.

"Unfortunately, my friend couldn't be here tonight. So it looks like I'm the fifth wheel." He shrugged the matter of, as if he didn't care that much but wanted people to make a point of it.

Mark, who had his arm underneath Rachel's was wearing black trousers, white shirt and a black tie. Hermione had never seen her father look so well dressed.

Rachel, of course noticed all of this.

"Well, Mark will just have to share me for this evening. I refuse to watch you walk in without a lady on your arm. A lady on you arm with another man on her other is better then no lady at all."

She extended her arm to Mr Schambey, who took it. "Indeed." He accepted her arm but not before he gave a small clear of the throat and nudged Draco.

Draco offered his left arm to Hermione, who took it, smiling slightly.

Draco gave her, I' don't want to really do this' look.

Hermione replied with a 'it's okay I know you want please your uncle' look.

How they could make such looks, or get the message across without a single sound or word used will forever remain a mystery to the galaxies.

The went up a flight of stairs and passed many rooms before, coming to the main ballroom.

"By his friend he mean's his current lover who will be gone within two weeks."

Draco said lowly, and Hermione stiffened a giggle.

They continued down a corridor, where they saw many guests, all dressed like royalty.

Draco heard Hermione breathe in when they entered.

Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving a dim glow, while the candles all around the edges of the room flickered their flame, creating shadows everywhere.

Tables were set out around, near to the walls of the room, on a deep, red carpet while a huge wooden dance floor stood out in the centre.

At the top of this dance floor stood a large stage, with velvet royal red curtains hanging up at either end.

A pretty blond was standing centre stage and singing while guests talk, listened, and ate.

It was all very romantic.

Their own table was reserved and Draco pulled out a seat for Hermione, blushing slightly she sat down, and he sat down next to her.

For a while Draco was nervous. He remembered kissing the girl next to him on the Hogwarts Express, then, not running- he would never let himself loose like that, left her, standing bewildered in an empty compartment.

He hadn't even known why he had done it. They were there, and it was just, a moment. As corny as that sounds. Draco said to himself.

As the menus arrived he felt the nerves within him ease.

He wanted to talk to Granger but didn't know what to say. Food was also an excellent staring point.

"What are you having?" He asked, leaning towards her slightly, and the menu they were sharing.

"I don't know. I've never had Italian before." She frowned, reading the options.

"On Thursdays it's Chinese and Tuesdays have Mexican."

"While Saturday brings Italian." Hermione finished, smiling.

"With all that food you'll end up fatter than Crabbe by the time term starts."

Hermione instantly regretted it, she bit her lip. She had just insulted one of his closest friends.

Draco noticed this, and thought it was very cute. But he did not care particularly for Crabbe, or Goyle, for that matter, they just happened to be there and like him.

"Maybe if I come back next year I'll be in league with Hagrid." Draco replied.

They both burst into laughter, the thought of anyone being the same size as the half giant was impossible, and that's why they found it so amusing.

Mr and Mrs Granger and Mr Schambey looked at the two teens, it was the first noise they had made all evening.

After they had ordered and handed the menus back to the waiter Hermione heard Mr Schambey mention overseas.

"Mr Schambey, where else do you have hotels?" Hermione asked, clasping her hands together on the table.

"Ah. I have them all over the globe. America, Africa, Australia, Egypt, England, Ireland, Hawaii, China… But this is my favourite one."

Hermione made a small 'oh' with her lips, amazed at how many hotels he owned, in such wonderful places.

"He likes this one the most because it was the first ever field's of gold hotel. His father built it and many parts of the family worked for years before that."

"It was built about a hundred years ago, and he traced back the family and many Schambeys worked here, so he decided to buy it, give it a bit of LTC and open it up again."

"But, if it was built over a hundred years ago, it would cost a fortune, even if it was in decline from any presentable looks."

"He won the lottery and figured it would be a good investment. He proved right, he's as rich as anything now."

Hermione nodded slightly. What about the name.

"How is he related to you though? I mean I know he's your uncle, but shouldn't he be called Malfoy or… Black?" Hermione struggled to say the last word, she still felt sad, sad for Harry as well, about Sirius's death, now over a year ago.

"When his and my father's mother died he decided to take her maiden name, he said it was to keep her family going."

Hermione thought about the way he had phrased that. he said. It sounded as though Draco didn't believe him. Hermione decided against asking more.

"So what are you going to do here all summer?" She asked, taking a sip from her glass of water.

"I'm helping with the music programme." Draco replied casually.

Hermione choked on her drink.

"You are?"

"Yeah I here the old man's got a great teacher for the two weeks the camp's running." He took a sip of his own drink.

"I'm teaching it." Hermione said, her voice still horse and whispery.

It was Draco's turn to be shocked. Of course, being a Malfoy, he didn't choke or spill his drink.

"Funny coincidence."

"Yeah."

The food arrived.

Draco could smell the food in the air. He looked down at his pasta dish and bread, eager to begin.

"To the Grangers. My new friends." Mr Schambey said, raising his glass, Draco along with Rachel and Mark had repeated it, raising their glasses also.

Hermione raised her glass slightly, before taking a long sip. She stared at the food in front of her.

They had been eating for almost an hour when Draco suddenly noticed she looked pale.

"Are you okay Hermione, your not eating your food." Draco asked.

Tension gripped the table, Rachel sat up straight, Mark's gazed pierced Hermione's eyes, at least, that's how it felt to her.

"I'm fine, I just… don't feel well." Hermione mumbled, not looking anyone in the eye.

She herself looked at her almost full plate and stared at everyone else's. It seemed they had eaten as much as she had left.

"Mr Schambey, this is the best food I had in ages, I do love Italian." Rachel rushed, trying to ease the tension.

The three adults began a conversation about the weather, anything, to get rid of the tension that seemed to be leaking out of Hermione's body.

Soon they had forgotten about the strange feeling, and as soon as the food was taken away Draco saw a colour in his companion's cheeks, and she almost looked relived.

"Mark, I hope you do not mind if I borrow you lovely wife for a dance." Mark shook his head and Mr Schambey helped Rachel to stand up, leading her to the dance floor.

"Right Granger. Time to prove you don't have to left feet." He held out his hand.

"Come on. I won't bite. Or curse. Or jinx. Promise." He raised his eyebrows and Hermione finally gave in, accepting his offer.

When the music they started to dance, Hermione was nervous, and kept staring at her feet, making sure she was doing the right steps.

"Look up. Your soul is not in your feet." Draco raised her chin and Hermione blushed.

She was a little bewildered at Draco's phrase. She knew what it meant, she just never thought she'd hear it from him.

"It's not about the steps. Feel the music around your body, and the steps will come almost naturally."

Hermione closed her eyes and began to listen. Soon she picked it up and was dancing almost as well as Draco.

The music changed and a slow song came on. Hermione wasn't sure what to do but Draco naturally swung his arm around her waist, pulled her closer and began to sway to the rhythm.

Hermione to began to sway gently, she closed her eyes only to open them and find stormy ice looking back.

The music finished and they stood at the dance floor clapping. Draco leaned forward, and bent his neck but just as he was about to kiss her, they both heard her mother's voice calling from the table.

"Do you to want any desert? The menus are here?" Draco glanced at Hermione and she looked the same as she had whilst eating dinner, only worse.

"You know what I think I'm just going to have an early night. Thank you for the dance it was… thank you."

Draco nodded and went back to the table while Hermione left. As soon as she was out of the ballroom and the doors were closed she leaned against a wall, holding her stomach. She moved away from the noise, and smell of food, and out, into the fresh air.

She was just about to leave the entrance foyer when she heard her name. She turned round to fast, and felt the world spin with her.

She had known that she had fainted simply because Draco had lifted her off of the floor.

"You really don't look well. Come on."

He supported Hermione, his arm around her waist, and slowly they began to walk to her room.

He instantly knew when he put his arm around her she wasn't well. He could feel bones poking at her, her skin wasn't glowing like it used to, her hair still shined, thankfully, but her eyes didn't they were dim and dull.

He saw the same tiredness in her he had seen on the train.

She stopped, feeling dizzy again, she could hardly keep her eyes open. She couldn't believe how quickly the energy had drained out of her.

She was falling asleep on Draco.

Draco saw how hard she was trying to stay awake. He saw it in her eyes. It was like there was a battle raging within her. Sleep versus Consciousness.

Without saying a word he bent down and scoped the body into his arms. Again, he was shocked. She incredibly light. Dangerously light.

He found her room and lay her on the bed. A curl had fallen, covering her eye and he swept it out of the way. He put covers over her and tucked her in.

Finding a spare blanket he shut her door, moved a comfy chair so he was able to see Hermione, sat down and wrapped the blanket around himself.

He stared at her face. For a while she was restless but settled down soon enough into a peaceful sleep.

Draco himself was worried. What were these feelings? Feelings he felt for her. He head many girlfriends, he was the most datable boy in Slytherin, but, no girl had ever made him feel the Hermione did.

And since when had it been Hermione?

He chewed his bottom lip. What would his father think? Hi dad, you know that mudblood we both hate to death? One of Potter's friends? Well I feel for her, bad.

Draco snorted at the look his father would have on his face. He didn't give a tosspots about his father anymore, but not long ago, his father had been his role model, the one person he actually cared about.

He reflected on what had happened in the Easter holidays, the last time he went home, the last time he saw his father.

...

**Draco was sitting on his bed reading when his father glided into the room. **

"**Draco. Are you ready?" It was more of a statement than a question.**

"**Ready for what?" He put the book down and faced his father dreading the answer.**

"**You very well know what. His, and mine for that matter, patience is coming to an end."**

**Draco knew this time would come, but not so soon. He had never wanted the mark on his arm, but what other choice did he have?**

"**No, I'm not." Draco had almost whispered the words.**

**Rage crossed Luscious's face and he pointed his wand at Draco. **

"**Where does you loyalty lie?" **

"**With you, father."**

"**And my loyalty?"**

"**To the Dark Lord."**

"**Therefore?"**

"**My loyalty is to you and therefore to the Dark Lord."**

"**Simple logic, not to hard too understand."**

"**No."**

"**Are you ready Draco?" The question was repeated, with much more force.**

"**Father… please." And this time the boy's answer came as a whisper.**

"**He will be here at dawn Draco, and you will have the Dark mark on your arm before the sun has finished rising."**

**With that Luscious spun on his heel and left, closing the door quietly behind him.**

**Draco knew what his father expected of him, he knew that his whole life had been planned for this. There had been no other option, and soon, it would be too late for one.**

**He glance at the clock, it was eleven. Panic surged through him and he began shaking. His already pale skin turned white.**

"**Jaygha." His own house-elf appeared before him.**

**Draco couldn't believe he was doing this. **

"**I want you to go to Hogwarts and get Dobby. Come straight back here. Do not speak to anyone. Now go."**

**He heard a crack and Jaygha was no longer there.**

**Shortly, she returned with Dobby. Draco honestly hadn't thought he would come, especially after the way Draco had treated his former house-elf.**

"**Dobby thank you for coming. I was hoping you would do me a favour?"**

"**Depends what Master Malfoy wants."**

"**Will you… will you take me back to Hogwarts with you?"**

**Dobby considered this for a moment and stared at the boy, who had shut his eyes.**

"**Pack your things."**

**Relief ran though Draco, but he was still not safe yet.**

**He hugged Dobby and quickly grabbed his school things. **

**Dobby put one hand on the large trunk and the other on Draco's arm.**

**The door burst open and Luscious got his wand out. He yelled inaudible words.**

**Draco saw the words Arvada Kadava form on his lips and yet he could not hear him, he saw green light flash from his father's wand but, thankfully, it was too late, Dobby had already apparated, taking Draco, and everything Draco needed with him.**

**And that was how Draco Malfoy had left his father, for all he knew the killing curse could have been pointed at him.**

**He and Dobby arrived at Hogwarts. Draco ran all the way to Dumbledore's office, running and almost knocking over Professor Snape and then McGonagall in the process. **

**He said the password and rushed up the stairs.**

**When he entered Dumbledore was sitting calmly behind his desk, and gestured for Draco to sit in one of the two seats opposite him.**

"**It seems you have returned to Hogwarts earlier than planned."**

"**Yes sir." Draco was surprised he could even speak, the way he felt led him to believe otherwise.**

"**Draco, for a long time, you have been in the middle, and now, it seems you have finally chosen what side you belong in. Have you chosen Draco?" Dumbledore's eyes gleamed blue in the low light, his silver beard glittered.**

**And Draco, who had known nothing but obeying his father, loving his father, now realized that his father had never given him anything back, never loved him back. No matter what Draco did Luscious didn't care, unless it was something wrong.**

**Draco wanted to be in a world where he could be himself, and not be tortured because he didn't agree with something.**

**He didn't want to have to choose sides. But, he was in the middle of a long, and never ending (it seemed) war. He had no choice but to make a choice. And that was when he realized he did have a choice.**

"**I have chosen sir." Draco's words caught in his front. He been such a, dick, in the past, at school, why would Dumbledore ever protect him? Care for him? Why would he? Why should he?**

**The only thing in Draco's life that had made him feel safe was certainty. And now, his world was falling apart and he was about to ask for someone's help, who had no reason to help him, who had every reason to do the exact opposite.**

"**Draco?"**

**They both stood up, Dumbledore towered slightly over Draco, just like his father, but unlike his father, Dumbledore held no threat or challenge.**

"**My place, is here. I belong here." Draco whispered, and Dumbledore smiled.**

**When Dumbledore gave that smile Draco felt the knot in his stomach loosen and such a feeling of relief washed over him.**

**He cried then. Draco Malfoy, the git, the one who always had a future of darkness in front of him, broke down in front of his headmaster. His legs buckled and Dumbledore caught him.**

**Professor Dumbledore understood all of this. He was very old, very wise, and could read people very well. He caught Draco and pulled him into a hug. **

**At that precise moment all Draco Malfoy wanted was to be cared about.**

**They stood there, Draco crying and Dumbledore stroking his silky hair, saying that as long as Draco stayed in Hogwarts he would be safe.**

**And for once in his life the white-blond haired boy truly believed he could put his trust, his faith, in someone.**

...

"Draco?" Hermione was staring at him, clearly worried.

Hermione had woke up to find a rather handsome boy sitting across the room, asleep in the chair. She quickly changed in the bathroom, and decided against waking him up.

She looked at him, and unconsciously aware, a small smile crept across her lips.

The smile was replaced with a frown, when she saw tears rolling down his high cheek bones, and heard him sobbing lightly.

His pale, perfect face was red and blotchy. Hermione had never seen Draco like this. Draco Malfoy was a rock, he didn't cry.

She felt ashamed of that thought. She knew, better than anyone, everyone needed a good cry. And why shouldn't Draco be able to cry?

Despite this, him crying still scared her.

"Draco?" She asked fearfully. She sat down on her knees and put one hand to his own knee.

If Draco was in this state then she would need to be strong with him.

So, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again.

"Draco." It was more reassuring, Hermione felt, Draco needed a shoulder to cry on. And Hermione was used to tears on hers. As much other people's watery sorrows as her own.

It took Draco a moment to realize where he was. He had had a flashback of what happened just 3 months ago, and had fallen asleep, still thinking about it.

He shivered, and heard the beautiful voice calling him. Whose was it? It was so familiar and yet he had never remembered that voice being beautiful before.

His vision cleared, to find Hermione kneeling on the floor, looking up at him worried.

"Draco?"

"I'm okay." Hermione stood up, and wiped Draco's face, his pale face red, Hermione Granger had seen him crying.

"Are you sure?"

Draco looked at her. The morning light was beaming into her room and she was wearing, shorts and a t-shirt with a think dressing gown, undone, on.

"Last night. O my god, I'm sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep in here."

"It's okay Draco. You want some hot chocolate?"

Draco laughed, and nodded, she had already made some, and handed him a cup, drinking her own.

Why did girls always think hot chocolate made people feel better?

He took a sip and felt the hot chocolate. That's why, he thought.

And they sat there, watching the sun rise through Hermione's window, drinking in hot chocolate, letting the pleasant silence know that, now, they had someone, they could relate too.


	5. First day of camp

**Author's note: Abi is very sorry to keep people waiting. She has tried to keep away from fanfiction over the weekend because she is addicted!**

**Abi liked writing this chapter, and the story is going to get better from chapter six, which will be here soon. **

**Abi doesn't know why, but she wrote this following chapter, she didn't mean or it to end up like this, but abi's fingers went woosh woosh ovet the keys and this is how her chapter turned out.**

**The comments are what keeps Abi going, she loves them and is over the moon that people enjoy her story!**

**Abi had lots of orange suqash today, so she is in over mode now, so, chapter six will be here very soon.**

**Even though Abi loves Englsih and literacy her spelling is not that good. At all. So, she apologizes for any mistakes now, even though she has gone through and checked, there still might be some lurking about.**

**So, here is Abi's next chapter and she hopes everybody likes it as much as her other chapters!**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter five: First day of Camp

Once the hot chocolate was finished Draco left. Hermione felt, a strange emptiness, but, being Hermione, she let it slip her mind and began to prepare for her first music class.

She frowned as she looked at her flute and guitar. What would happen when it came to singing? She hadn't sung for two years and nine months. She didn't even know if she could sing anymore.

The last time she had sung was to her grandmother, who had been very ill and in hospital. Hermione had sung her grandmother's favourite song.

When she finished singing, tears were crawling down their cheeks, eyes were wet and sparkly with love.

The last note came and there was a moment of silence.

Hermione's grandmother had put her hand to the girl's cheek. It had taken all of her strength. She moved her thumb under Hermione's eye, wiping away the tears.

"Thank you." It was a whisper, her eyes shut and her arm rested once more on her stomach. She was gone.

Hermione had cried for weeks, and promised herself that she would never sing again. That way, her grandmother could have Hermione's voice forever.

Hermione raised her own hand to her cheek and wiped away the tears. She was teaching a music class, for heaven's sake, how can you not sing in a music class?

Sighing, she decided that the kids would just have to deal with it, they could sing their little socks off, and Hermione would help them as much as she could without singing herself.

She showered away her sorrows, feeling slightly fresher and allowed her hair to dry naturally.

Italy was much too hot for jeans. Hermione looked through her clothes, now hanging up in a wardrobe, and decided to wear a pair of denim shorts, and a white strappy top. She quickly pulled her hair into a loose pony-tail, grabbed her music stuff, and left.

She was trying to find the music room in which she would teach in. She had a lot of trouble.

"Ah! Hermione my dear. What are you doing here? I thought you were teaching?" Mr Schambey and all of his roundness jumped up the stairs to where Hermione was standing.

"I can't find it." She mumbled, turning red.

"Oh, well I'll be happy to escort a pretty little lady to her music class."

He took her arms in his and led her towards the art wing.

They reached the right place, Hermione making sure she had the route drawn in her head, to find 10 or so kids waiting in the corridor.

"Why are we all standing outside? This isn't school you know."

"The door's locked." One of the kids stated.

Mr Schambey took out a large set of keys, with hundreds of gold silver and copper pieces of metal glinting in the sun clinging onto the golden chain.

Finding the right one instantly he unlocked the door and ushered them all in.

"Now, who knows who I am?"

"Your Mr Schambey, the owner of the hotel." A girl with long blond bunches answered.

He talked to them for a while, and Hermione looked at her students. Thankfully there were none older than fourteen, it would just be embarrassing having to teach someone her own age or older. The youngest kid was four.

The room was large. There was a very nice piano to the left, with stands and instruments tucked neatly away in the furthest corner.

Desks and chairs were spread around the edges of the room, leaving a big space in the middle of the room. The carpet was a nice shade of grey, all the walls were white.

"Anyway, this is Hermione, she is your music teacher. Have fun, learn well.. And enjoy." He bowed on his last word, causing the kids to laugh. It was a very low bow with a sweep of his arm, before he left.

Hermione looked at the room. It was huge, and was originally made for band practice. But, they had moved into a more recent room, leaving this one as a music classroom for the camp Mr Schambey organized the guests' children two years ago.

This, was the third year, and, unfortunately, the music teacher had fallen over and broken her leg. She then took ill and lost her voice.

Fortunately, Hermione had stepped in.

"Okay. I'm Hermione, before we begin can I ask how many of you can play an instrument?"

She counted the total number of kids, and how many already knew how to play something.

Six out of nine wasn't bad.

"And how many who know they can sing?" She almost hated to ask, but, it had to be done.

One of the three who didn't know how to play an instrument raised his hand while two other hands shyly stretched as well.

"Right. Today, we're just going to get to know everyone else, names, and what you play, and how well you can play it."

"So, if we just sit in a circle." Hermione herself sat down in the centre of the room.

Kids started to form a circle, the little blond with bunches on her right and a boy with glasses and mouse hair on her left.

Just as she was about to start she felt eyes on her. She whipped around to see Draco Malfoy, leaning against the doorway, staring at her.

"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there all day?" Draco smiled, shook his head and walked into the room. All the kids looked up at him.

"Hi everyone, I'm Draco, and I am Hermione's assistant."

He sat down in the circle, sitting opposite her. He gave her a smile.

Hermione looked at him, surprised. She thought he was a teacher as well as her. Recomposing herself, she began the class.

"Just so we can learn everyone's names, we're just going to go round in a circle, saying them. But, because everyone here is interested in music, you have to find a rhythm to your name and say it that way,"

"I'll go first."

Hermione took a breathe. This was as close to singing she was ever going to get. And even that made her nervous.

"Her-miio-nee." She started of normal but made her voice go upward and then come back down.

She looked at the blond bunchy girl.

"Lucy" It started of with a very slow lu sound and then a sharp c at the end.

"Asssssssshley." He shushed his name.

"See? It can be as silly or as funny as you want. So everyone, just relax, let's carry on." Hermione nodded to the boy at where they had paused.

"Draco." Draco announced his voice very low and very loud. The kids burst into laughter and clapped him.

They went in the circle, repeating their rhythmic names twice more.

"Now everyone is going to get up, move around, so the circle is in a completely different order. Then, we are going to say the names, but it has to be another person's, not your own. So I hope you all paid attention."

They moved and sat back down. Draco was now next to her.

"Draco?"

Draco looked at Hermione. She wanted him to start.

He done Max's rhythmic name.

People clapped when someone got it right, laughed when someone got it wrong.

After a while, when Hermione was confidant they knew at least some other people's names, she stood up and went over to the white-board. She picked up a blue pen and wrote music in big letter in the middle of the whit board.

"Now we are going to say what music means to us." Hermione looked at the worried faces and smiled.

"Don't worry there are no right or wrong answers, it's an opinion. What music means to you, how it makes you feel."

They slowly raised there hands, again, shy. She picked people in turn (Picking them by their names, she remembered what all of them were.) and wrote on the board.

"Freedom."

"Love."

"Making me feel better."

"Getting to feel different ways."

It carried on until the board was almost out of space.

"Right, before we begin playing some music have a break."

They all began talking to each other and got lost in conversation.

Hermione pulled out pen and paper from her bag and wrote the nine kids on there.

She went round and individually asked them what they could play.

She finished and looked down at the list.

Three guitars, one of them electric, two violin, one flute, one saxophone and two drums.

She ended up with five people who could sing, they had told her in an almost whisper, suddenly very shy.

She had marked a small S next to those who could sing.

"Quite a nice mix really."

He was standing behind her, reading over her shoulder, making her jump.

Hermione had sworn he was closer than that when she turned around. She swore she could have felt his breathe on her neck.

"Yeah."

For a moment she was lost for words. And this was Hermione Granger, if it was one thing that defined her, it would be she was never out of words.

Quickly gathering herself up, and then realizing how silly she was being she laughed, shook her head slightly and turned back to the class.

"Okay, everyone round the piano."

She herself sat down on the stool and placed her delicate fingers on the keys.

"Draco is going to lead the warm up exercise."

"You what?"

He leaned down.

"I assume you do know how to do this?"

"Yes! Of course I do!"

"Then what's the problem?"

Draco gave her a look but said no more and began.

Hermione almost messed up the scales when she heard his voice. It was so… so… incredible. She hadn't known he could sing.

She began to drift of as she listened to his voice. For a moment, just a moment, his voice was the only one she could hear.

The kids joined in, one by one, and the moment was over. She shook her head, and concentrated.

"Bye-bye, see you tomorrow."

"I like this way more then school."

"I don't want to go."

Hermione and Draco stood by the door, watching the kids leave. Many of the parents had come to see how their children had got on.

Hermione heard the kids exclaim how wonderful it was. Had she really been that good?

Soon the class was empty, leaving Hermione and Draco.

There was an awkward silence.

Draco, suddenly realized how, shy was being. About asking her to do something with him, not in that way. But he had been taken by this strange… fascination, he wanted to get to know the girl he had tormented for six years.

Tapping the piano top with his finger lids he took a breathe and asked Hermione.

"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow, after class?"

"Nothing, why?"

Hermione was beating herself up inside. What an answer, normally people asked you if you were free if they wanted to spend time with. Honestly, why.

Then she paused. Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy, son of death-eater, dark arts expert, smooth-sailing, prince of Slytherin, wanted to spend time with her?

She smiled, and then hid it quickly.

"I just wondered if you… would like to go horse-riding. Not like a date or anything." He added quickly.

Hermione almost said oh, she managed to control herself at the last minute, holding the disappointment at the tip of her tongue.

"Sure why not?"

Draco smiled then, not a sneer or a smirk, but a genuine smile.

It took Hermione's breathe, she swore it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

They talked a little more and then went their separate ways.

**...**

"Hermione!" A jolly, big fellow ran up to her.

"How was the class?"

"Oh Mr Schambey, it was wonderful, I really enjoyed it! The kids are just so adorable."

"Goodness, you sound almost as enthusiastic as the kids." He delighted, clapping his hands together.

He saw a glow in her eyes. He had never seen it in the short time he had known her but he knew instantly that the glow was the missing thing from when she had first met him.

And he was delighted, at what ever may have caused it, delighted at the fact that it was there.

"Anyway, I do hope you will join your parents, Draco and myself for dinner this evening."

Hermione smiled, how could she refuse such a kind hearted man?

"Of course."

Even though she loved that he thought of her as a grown up, and treated her just like he treated her parents, she could not make the nerves insider her disappear.

And they had come to life all because of one word.

Dinner.

Shuddering she turned away and retired to her room.

She did not realize how tired she was until she saw her bed.

Collapsing onto it, she fell into a sleep.

She awoke when her phone went off.

It was her mother.

"Yeah?" Hermione sleepily rubbed her eyes.

"I hope you are making yourself look presentable for dinner."

The other line hung up, was that all her mother had to say? Before she hung up a bye or a I hope you enjoyed your day, would have been nice.

But it was Rachel Granger, and no matter how hard she might wish for her mother's affection it never came true.

Hermione sighed and looked through her wardrobe. She did have an evening dress that her father had brought for her three years ago. The colour was a very nice white, but the style, the cut, looked as if though a six year old might wear it.

Hermione bit her lip, thoughtfully. She lay the dress on her bed, and went for a shower.

Still in her towel she began to cut the dress, sewing the spare material in other places. She cut loose the big white bow at the back.

In the end the dress was lovely. The dress was much more stylish now. She had cut away the outer layers of the skirt, finding a lovely, simple white silk bottom.

She had cut away the neck's lace and frills, leaving it without any straps. She untied the bow, and loving the material she cut a thin strip of, and sewed it to the front.

What could she do with the rest of the bow? She looked in the mirror, and something very damp caught her eye.

She smiled and got to work.

**…**

Draco was waiting, again, for Hermione to come down those steps. He loved the outfit she wore before, and so felt nervous of what she would wear tonight.

The black dress and rose, was, well, sexy.

Draco laughed. He had put sexy and Hermione Granger in the same sentence.

The Draco a few moths ago never would have dreamed about that.

But, it was true. Hermione had turned from a very frizzy, very plain little girl into a small, slight, beautiful young woman.

And it had only just hit Draco.

He was so caught up in his own feelings he didn't see Hermione enter the foyer, or hear her greet everyone.

He only acknowledged her presence when she put a hand on his shoulder.

As soon as the hand touched his shoulder he knew it was her. The feeling was nice and cool in the heat of Italy's climate, but he felt if that same hand touched him if he were freezing it would send warmth through his body.

The turn his stomach did curtained his thoughts.

He turned round to face her.

He looked down at her, marvelling her beauty. Her white dress flowed about her, the small belt like bow tying at the back, the white hair band in her straight, shiny, gorgeous hair.

Her face shone and a small smile was on her lips. Such soft, gentle lips. He once again was amazed at how she wore no make up, and how real that made her.

He had always been with girls who had worn make up. As beautiful as they were the make up made them seem plastic, fake almost.

But Hermione looked beautiful without make up, she looked real. The white around her made her shibe, and she looked so, so pure,

Of course he had taken it in within seconds.

He bowed to her before offering her his arm.

Hermione smiled, shook her head and took his arm, wrapping hers over it.

Draco, himself smiled, at her response. Any other girl would have put her hand to her mouth, laughed as though it were the most hilarious thing they had ever seen then say 'Oh Draco.'

But, not Hermione. She was different.

After tripping over, growing red, and muttering something about having no grips on his shoes Draco saved his most, mind consuming, thoughts for later.

They sat at the same table as before they listened to classical music, played by the band. They watched old couples and young love birds dance across the floor.

Draco had been rather silent since his fall walking down the corridor.

Hermione didn't like the coldness coming for Draco, so she decided to do something about it.

"Draco?"

Draco was a million words away.

"Draco?" She said it with the same softness in her voice, and Draco turned to look at her.

She put her hand on his arm.

"Everyone is allowed to make mistakes."

Draco looked at the smooth hand, the delicate fingers touching his pale skin.

"Not while dancing your not." He jumped up and offered her his hand.

Laughing she accepted it.

And once more she was dancing in Draco's arms.

The music stopped and a slow song began. Looking at Hermione, making sure that she wasn't annoyed, Draco untangled their clasped hands and slipped his arm around her wais, gently pulling her closer.

He waited and then started swaying gently, in time with the music. A rather red Hermione stood limp in his arms, before joining Draco.

She didn't know what to do with her arms, she felt that putting them round his arms would make them both feel awkward, she felt that resting her hands on his chest was too… intimate.

She was at a loss, and her already rosy cheeks were beginning to deepen.

Finally, she rested her hands just below his shoulders, not quite on his chest.

She felt fairly comfortable, and she knew Draco didn't mind, he would have said something otherwise.

Draco loved how she got all worked up over something as small as slow dancing with him. He himself didn't mind where she put her arms. Not really.

He wouldn't have liked them around his neck because of the height difference, it ache both her arms and his neck.

He would have very much liked to have her hands on his chest, which she almost very nearly done.

To feel the soft pressure from her hands, was a sign to know that she had accepted him. But, how her hands had handed up, just below his pointed shoulders wasn't so bad. In fact, it was rather nice.

Subconsciously he pulled her even closer. She however, did notice and, it left her tingling inside.

She stared at his chest, his neck, anywhere but his eyes. She felt the arm around her back, and loved every moment of it. The other hand soon joined it, so his hands were pressed together, behind her back. And she was, being held in his arms.

This was very similar to the last time they danced. But better. Much, much better. How cam something that you have done once before feel so different?

The song did finish, and dinner, was later this evening.

They continued dancing, but the night was hot and they soon retired to their table for a drink.

Hermione smelt it in the air, and desperately tried not to choke or gag. The waiters in the black trousers, white shirts and deep red waistcoats were coming towards them, food sitting on the silver tray they carried expertly on a hand.

The smell filled Hermione, and she lost her colour, and awkwardness poured out of her.

The food reminded her of how light-headed, how dizzy, she felt, and with every step it came towards her, her head became worse. She had to get out.

she couldn't have a repeat of last night, she just couldn't.

"I don't feel so well. I'm just going to lie down." She mumbled, standing up, her chair scraping along the floor.

Keep control Hermione, wait, just wait until you are out the door.

She turned to close the door when she saw Draco crossing the room, coming after her.

At any other moment her heart would be pounding, her breathing would stop. But, not like this, not with the food in the air, and she could already taste it on her tongue. And it had not even been in her mouth, not even on a plate in front of her.

Panic surged through her. Just a taste, was enough to make her vomit, but she hadn't tasted anything, so, why, was her stomach churning inside?

Looking up she caught Draco's eye.

She closed the door, turned, and ran.

**…**

Draco knew that she was going. That she wouldn't wait, or talk to him. He crossed the room as quickly as he could, without causing a disturbance or suspicion.

He caught her eyes through the door. What had created the look in her eyes? The wildness, the fear?

Draco hated seeing her frightened, ill, and running away from him.

He willed with all his mite for her not to close the door, to stay there, wait for him, talk to him.

He willed with all his mite to take away her fear, her pain.

No such luck.

He opened the door, closed it gently behind him, turned and ran.

Just like Hermione had done seconds before him.

He was faster, his Quiditch training left him fit and healthy, and he knew, he was able to catch up with her, that was, if he had known which direction she had fled.

Closing his eyes he trusted his instinct, running down a random route.

He saw Hermione, running, or at least trying to run. Then, she fell sown onto the floor, and stayed there. Draco wondered if she had once more fainted. His eyes widened and her ran over to her, turning her over and putting her head in his lap.

"Hermione?" He said, the eyes flickered for a moment, and she opened them.

Draco knew, he just knew, that all she was feeling at that precise moment was dizziness. He could almost see her eyes spinning with the sensation that overwhelmed her.

Helping her up, he helped her with the last flight of stairs and the few feet, until, they were outside her room.

He took the key from out of her purse and unlocked it.

Hermione darted in.

She had to reach it in time, she would not let Draco see her doing this.

She ran into the bathroom, fell to the floor, put her head over the toilet and threw up.

It hurt her head, her stomach, her throat. She tried desperately to hold back tears.

She felt a warm hand on her back, moving in circles, and she closed her eyes.

She opened them again as the pain flowed through her, hurting her insides.

The retching eventually stopped. Hermione had not thrown up the very small amount of food that had been in her body, but the acid that had been in her stomach had somehow travelled up as well. She reached for a tissue, but a hand grabbed hers, steadying the shaky fingers.

Draco could feel the body shaking beneath him. What, had made Hermione like this? He knew she was to sensible to be bulimic. He was almost certain she was too sensible to be bulimic.

He watched her hand reach up for tissue, it was shaking uncontrollably, he had to make it stop. He put his own hand over hers, allowing it to linger for a moment, before pushing it down to her side.

He himself reached up for a tissue, and turned Hermione towards him.

He gently reached up, and began to clean the mess around her mouth. Tiredly she moved her head away.

Draco sighed, but he moved around.

They sat opposite each other, both on their knees.

Draco put his hand on her face, comforting her as well as holding her still and he cleaned up the mess around her mouth. This time she did not pull away.

But her eyes still refused to meet his. He wanted her to look at him, he wanted to show her that it didn't matter, that he cared.

But, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground.

Still holding her head in one hand Draco reached up and pulled a damp flannel down with him, he rinsed it out, deciding he would clean the bathroom floor later.

He again, wiped her mouth. He wished that somehow he could wipe away all the pain and fear the sick, but, it was not to be.

Hermione knew what was going to happen now, it always did after she was sick.

Gathering all her strength she muttered a thank you to Draco.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Hermione knew she was being rude, she knew she shouldn't say it, but she couldn't help it.

"I'm not leaving you on your own like this." He replied simply.

Hermione knew what she would have to do to make him leave. She would have to shout, she would have to make him mad.

"I'm fine now."

The look Draco gave her told her otherwise.

"Honestly! I don't need a baby-sitter." She stood up, swaying but she managed not to fall back down.

They walked out into her bedroom.

Draco sat down in his chair, the one he had moved near door the previous evening.

Hermione remembered that she hadn't bothered to move it. She liked it there.

"Leave me alone!" She shouted.

She just kept shouting that one line, praying that he would go. She didn't want him to see her collapse, faint, again. And she knew she was very near to it,

Draco stood up and opened the door. He heard a whimper, he knew Hermione really didn't want him to go.

Hermione almost called him back, but managed to refrain herself.

As soon as the door shut she fell, landing on the floor, already unconscious.

Draco waited outside for five minutes, and then went back in. In all the rush he left the keys in the door.

He took them out and opened the door.

Draco was a complicated boy, and could figure most people out with a snap of a finger. But not Hermione.

He understood many things. He did not understand why she didn't want him to see her faint. He didn't understand why she didn't want anyone to help her when she was ill.

Sighing he picked her bony body up off the floor lay her on the bed. He sat down beside her for a few minutes. And looked at her, really looked at her.

She was sickly pale, not like his white skin, but her skin had an ill look to it, a sickly yellow almost. Her hair, while it still shone, he noticed that had been thinner than ever, not even as thick as when they were on the Hogwarts Express.

Her eyes were like pandas, dark circles underneath them. And her cheeks were always rosy, making her skin look even more pale. Her rosy cheeks made her look as if though she was always out of energy.

And that was when he realized she was.

Always out of energy, always tired.

In music class that day she had always been careful about standing up or sitting down, pausing for a moment before continuing.

She needed to rest on the piano after she had walked and talked with all the kids. Her body had put more weight on Draco towards the end. And he had now seen her collapse twice, and knew she had done it three times.

Collapsing, fainting, whatever you wanted to call it, three times in one day was not good.

He tucked her in, making sure she was snuggled under quilts nice and warm before leaning down and whispering to her.

"I know your hurting. I know your afraid. All I need to know is what, if I don't know what then I can't make it better."

His voice remained steady but tears sprung to his eyes. He would not cry, he needed to be strong.

For her.

"You rest now, but tomorrow, you are going to talk. You know you haven't been yourself. And if you won't tell your parents, or your friends, then you will tell me. Tell me and I will help."

His voice caught in his throat, he leaned even further, so his lips almost, but did not quite, touch her ear.

"Tell me Hermione. Trust me, tell me. We will get thought this. But I need you to tell me what's going on."

He buried his face into her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"It will get better, whatever it is, it will get better. I promise."

"I promise."


	6. An unfortunate promise

**Author's note: Abi is back! First of all she would just like to apologize for keeping people waiting for so long! But chapter six is no here and her seventh chapter isn't far behind!**

**She would like to say that they are getting longer, just like she said they would to certain people.**

**Abi, would like to take this oppotunity to say sorry for any spelling mistakes, grammer errors or typos her readers may find in her stroy.**

**Abi thinks she might start posting her other stories on here (yes Abi has ideas!), so keep an ear, or an eye, or an alert out for them. If you like this one and ABi, that is.**

**Abi has nothing, unfortunatly, to say. Oh, except that she is running out on orange squash, just one third of a bottle left! AHHHH! She will have to go to the shop tomorrow, and buy pop-corn too! Salty of course!**

**Abi wants to say that the title to Chapter 6 will be explained in the next chapter, for those who can't count, that is chapter seven! **

**Oh, chapter seven, maybe, will be called Tim flying, time passing, time crying. **

**Abi is not to sure yet. Just to let people know, Abi read a fan-fic and it always said the name of the next chapter before hand, and it got Abi hooked. She wanted to know why it was called that!**

**So Abi, being Abi, thought she would give it a try!**

**YAY! Abi has already started writing, or typing, it!**

**Wow look at what she has said. For not having much to say today Abi can sure talk alot about nothing!**

**Anyways, as usual Abi is going to say her last word and let everybody get on with it...**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter Six: An unfortunate prmoise.

"I was wondering when you were going to get up."

Hermione groaned and turned over, moving under the blankets.

Draco was in his chair, reading a music book for her flute.

"What grade?"

"At what?"

"Music."

"Teacher's degree for flute and piano, grade eight for violin and seven guitar."

"Wow."

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

Draco saw shift slightly under her quilts.

"No, you have to get up."

There was no response, Draco sighed and looked into Hermione's music bag. He was about to pull one up at random when he caught sigh of a very thick one. He pulled it out.

Unlike the others, this book had not been used for a while. A long while. But when it had been used, it had been used a lot. Odd.

Draco flicked through it, realizing it was a singing book.

Two questions simultaneously popped into his mind. One, could Hermione sing, and, two, why didn't she use this book any more?

Something went of and Hermione jumped out of bed, grabbing her bag.

"Hello?"

"Hermione Izabella Granger, do you HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THE TIME IS? Breakfast, café, five minutes." The other line hung up.

"Izabella?" Draco's eyes showed a hint of amusement.

"Yes. Now, what are you doing here?"

"Just waiting for you."

"What's that?"

"A music book."

"I knew that, what music book?"

"Er… Beloved songs from the classics and stage."

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat,

"I'm going to get ready."

"See you at breakfast?"

Hermione only nodded, her eyes had never left the book in Draco's hand.

"Hermione? Breakfast, five minutes."

"Yes, see you there."

Draco sighed, Hermione was very intelligent, she would not have chosen advanced potions or advanced transfiguration otherwise.

So why was she acting so… so… simple? So dumb?

"Do you even know where the café is? Or what café for that matter."

"No."

"Meet me in the entrance foyer."

"Okay."

"Why are you upset? Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm not upset!" Hermione snapped. She folded her arms, staring as Draco gave her a look.

"No, it's not you. Why are you in here anyhow?"

"Gee, I think I'll leave you to hypothermia or pneumonia the next time you faint."

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes, it was not as if she asked him to pick her up every time she fell over. it was not her fault she was fainting. Was it?

"Look, I'm sorry."

Draco crouched down in front of Hermione, who was now sitting on the bottom of the bed, her legs dangling over the edge as if they were string.

"Hermione, your not well. And if you can't talk to your parents or friends, then you need to talk to someone."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Draco held up his hand.

"Let me finish. Hermione, you run 10 miles in the other direction whenever you see food, your fainting constantly, your always out of energy, you find it hard to stay awake for more then a couple of hours. You are ill Hermione. And I don't care if you are doing it on purpose or not. But I am going to stop it. I am going to make you better."

Hermione could only sit there, like a frightened little child, while Draco carried on.

"You will talk to me about this. If not me then, someone. Okay?"

Hermione nodded again, unable to speak even though she wanted to.

How could she tell Draco? She had no right to lay her burden on him, he had enough of his own troubles. Hermione knew that Draco was just as stubborn ad she was, maybe… just maybe she should talk to him.

After all, there was no one else she could tell. Not Ron, not after what happened, not Harry, he had too much to deal with.

But Draco was kneeling before her, offering to help. Should she? Could she? She didn't know, and she hated the feeling of being confused about her own feelings.

"Okay." she whispered.

Draco smiled and gave her hand a squeeze and then left her to get ready.

"Where have you been? Oh, Draco dear, hello." Rachel gave her a look as Hermione and Draco sat down opposite her parents and his uncle.

"If you must know, we have been discussing the music programme." Hermione said, and Draco recognized that know-it-all attitude he had been accustomed to mocking.

And yet today he didn't feel like being mean to her, but the corners of his oh-so-fine lips (lets face it girls, Draco Malfoy is hot, no one can deny it!) into a small smile.

Soon Rachel left, then Mark, then Mr Schambey, until it was just Hermione and Draco left.

As they stood and were about to leave they saw an elderly woman fall.

It just so happened that this woman had dark, greasy grey hair and a rather large nose. Of course the two youths did not register these characters due to the circumstances.

Hermione, being Hermione, rushed to her aid.

Draco, being Draco, rolled his eyes but, despite this, followed suit and picked up her home-made knotted bag.

"Ahh thank you… very… much." The old woman wheezed.

"So nice to see such a lovely young couple. Sevy, Sevy! Come in here and say thank you for picking up your old bat of a mother!" She called through the door.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other. This old lady thought they were a couple.

Well that was just… just… well!

Engrossed by one another's response at such a thought they did not see the familiar hooked nose, the greasy black hair, the tall dark figure in black robes walk in.

Severus Snape was about to give a mouth full for harassing an elderly citizen, but stopped when he saw the two faces.

They both turned in unison to see him towering above them, just like their days at Hogwarts.

His eyes narrowed as he saw Granger's hand hold the boy's arm and Malfoy's own hand slip around her waist.

They themselves seemed completely oblivious to their actions.

"Professor?"

"Professor Snape?"

"Professor Snape in Italy?"

One of them started and the other finished. Snape raised his eyebrows when he saw the two students glance at each other, trying to refrain themselves from laughing.

"What brings you to Italy Professor?"

"Despite rumours at Hogwarts, and your personal opinions, I do have a life."

"Oh?" Draco raised his eyebrows .

"I am here accompanying an ill, elderly member of society in her days of pain. She has been realised from Saint Mungo's for a week and is to remain under my supervision." He said, every word, every sound remaining at the same pith, the same tone, the same volume.

"And, Professor, how is this elderly member of society related to you." There was a hint of amusement in her voice, although Hermione kept an innocent expression on her face.

"My mother."

Instead of the two cracking up like any other Hogwarts student would after finding out that the most feared and hated Professor was a mummy's boys, Hermione and Draco smiled, seeing each other they both knew they were thinking the same thing.

Severus Snape was capable of being kind, of caring, of loving.

"Well Professor, we hope you enjoy Italy. See you in September if not sooner."

Hermione shook the professor's hand, as did Draco before they left.

Since when were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy a 'we'?

"Lovely couple. So beautiful together. Do you know them Sevy?"

"Yes mother. Lovely couple indeed."

…

"Hey guys come on in."

The kids filed through the door, Draco shutting the door behind the last.

Hermione was sitting down on the floor and they all flopped beside each other, forming a circle.

Hermione smiled, they had simply done it, she had not asked them to, and she felt proud.

"Draco and I have been talking. And we are going to give you the choice of what you want to learn here."

Draco sat opposite Hermione and carried on from where she had finished.

"The first is we help you practise with whatever level and instrument your at. It will be just like the music lessons at home."

"Or, we can organize a show, and you get the chance to perform it in front of guests and Mr Schambey in the evening of the last day of the music programme." Hermione chimed in.

"We would like to know as soon as possible because then we can spend this session planning and the rest can be full of practical work."

"We are going to do the sensible thing and vote."

Hermione and Draco paused, the kids taking it as an opportunity to ask questions.

"What will we get out of a show?" Lucy asked.

"Well, your parents will see how hard you have been working. You'll learn new songs and get the chance to befriend people with the same interest as you. While learning songs your practising and having fun because it's a song you want to play. It's just the same as practising but a lot more fun."

Hermione asked everyone what they thought and they came up with great thoughts and showed enthusiasm for the latter choice.

"So, is everyone ready to decide what one they want to do?"

Heads all bobbed up and down in a nodding motion.

"Remember, both will benefit you. And don't be too disappointed if the majority chooses the other one to what you like."

Draco explained the first option again and asked for a raise of hands.

Hermione described the other one. Seven hands, clearly one had changed their mind.

It was decided. They were going to put a show on.

Hermione jumped up, grabbed a pen and wrote THEME on the board and drew a cloud around it.

"So we know what songs you want to play for your parents let's start with themes."

"Classical?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Try being a bit more specific."

"Disney!"

Disney went up on the board, so did musicals, classic films.

Draco personally thought that musicals and Disney were a great choice. Disney was fun for all the family, and the kids would enjoy it, while the adults would love the more olden film songs and musicals.

"I have a few books here, look through them and write a list of ten songs you want, from these books. In a bit we'll go through everyone's list and we'll do the majority." Hermione explained, thinking it was an easy way to decided on what songs.

"We don't actually know what time or how long we get our performance yet, I'm sorting it out tomorrow with the entertainment staff. But we need a starting point, so pick away!" Draco exclaimed, handing everyone a pen and paper.

They retired to a corner to talk.

"Going well."

"Yeah."

Both Hermione and Draco were surprised at how long it took everyone to choose the songs. The kids were taking this very seriously.

Half an hour later and there was only half an hour left. Two hours a day really wasn't enough.

The time passed to quickly.

"How about we pick a few random ones from a book and all sing along, Draco leading of course."

Hermione herself sat down by the piano.

Draco opened a book up at a random page and put it down in front of Hermione.

The bare Necessities- From the Jungle Book.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and asked if everyone knew the lyrics.

All but one.

"Come round here and you can look at the book."

Hermione began playing the piano and smiles crept across the faces in front of her as they heard the tune.

They began singing.

Hermione smiled at a little girl, who wasn't.

"It doesn't matter if you don't sing that well. This is just for fun."

The noise suddenly grew louder, the kids feeling a lot more confidant in themselves.

"What page?" Draco asked, flapping the book of Disney songs in front of the kids.

"61!"

Draco turned to page 61. Laughing he put it down on the piano.

A whole new world- Aladdin.

Draco began singing, and this time instead of joining in, the kids just sat down, listening to the beautiful voice.

When it came for the female part Draco turned expectantly to Hermione.

But, Hermione stopped playing, thanking the lucky stars she didn't have to sing.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting. See everyone tomorrow."

The parents commented the two on their class and how good Draco was, and how their kids loved it.

By the time everyone had cleared out of the room Draco had soft pink cheeks, from embarrassment.

"I believe now is the time for horse riding."

Draco opened the door and stooped into a low bow as Hermione walked past.

Laughing she turned and curtseyed to Draco.

They headed off in the direction of the stables.

…

"This isn't the stables."

"No, this is the family part of the hotel."

Hermione made an o shape with her mouth and followed Draco down a corridor and into his room.

"Wow!"

The room was large, beautiful, magnificent.

The walls were white, pure, gleaming white while the room had a soft black fury carpet, complete with white and black furnishings.

"Just wait here a sec."

Hermione nodded, turning about the room slowly.

Draco disappeared through a door, quietly humming as he left.

While he was gone Hermione noticed that there was a tv, a phone, a stereo system, and other various muggle devices.

Over the holiday Hermione had seen a completely different side to Draco Malfoy. And she wondered, hoped, that this was really him.

She herself had felt a lot better, happier in the past two or three days than she had in the past seven months. But while her spirits were beginning to rise they could not get back to normal, because, there was a shadow below them, tied to them, weighing them down.

Her body was getting worse. More headaches, more cramps, more vomiting, more fainting.

Draco Hummed as he changed clothes. His father would hate him for wearing such clothes. Draco had started wearing them for horse-riding or just getting dirty in. But he grown on them, and was beginning to like them more and more. He now owned exactly four pairs.

His mind wondered to the girl waiting for him outside. Hermione Granger was so level headed, strong minded. He thought nothing could get to her. Not his cold, cruelness nor anyone else's.

She was so smart, so brave.

But lately, he had seen another side to her. A side that was fragile, a side that was shy, a side that was uncertain.

And the Hermione he had known for the last six years wasn't like that. She was certain, certain of herself.

But now, she was, well, a wreck.

He decided that they were going to talk today. And if she didn't like him enough, trust him enough to talk to Him himself, then he would make sure she talked to someone.

By the time the moon had risen she would have a weight lifted of her shoulders. She would leave her solitude behind, even if he had to drag her out of it and then grab it, shut it, lock it and bolt it in side a box.

He came back out, wearing different clothes. He was in jeans and a white, short sleeved top.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Draco was wearing casual clothes. Scrap that, Draco was wearing jeans!

The jean surprisingly, really suited him. They complemented his arse- a lot!

Hermione grew red at the thought that had just crossed her mind. Shaking her head she grinned at Draco, before they both left.

…

"This on here's mine." Draco proudly stated. Patting the massive, black beast beside him.

Hermione felt a little nervous, the horse looked, a bit, vicious. Not because of his size, Hermione knew not to judge a book by it's cover, but his movements were sharp, hard and broad.

"I'm not riding him today though. If I do take him out it would be for hours. He doesn't mind other people, but he likes with just the two of us."

Draco said absent minded, reluctant to take his hand of the horse.

A small smile escaped her lips.

"Anyway, you and I will be riding siblings. Sea-soul and Sky-spirit. Don't look at me like that, they're uncle S's horses. He named them."

Hermione nodded, staring at the two horses Draco had led her too. They weren't as magical or as breath-taking as Draco's own horse, but they beautiful nonetheless.

They were both brown horses, with very similar body structure and looks. Sea-soul, the male, had a black, silky mane while Sky-spirit, the girl, had a blondish mane, and a lot less of it.

Hermione preferred male horses, they were rough and proud but, they were loyal, female horses, well if you didn't know them, you never know what they might do.

Once all saddled up they left. Hermione had not been on a horse for a while, luckily she got Sea-soul, and felt unsteady.

"You do know how to ride a horse don't you?" Draco asked, changing his rein, his horse behaving perfectly.

"If I didn't know how to ride a horse I would have said!" Hermione snapped, grabbing at her own reins. Draco gave a small scoff, and Hermione soon made a similar sound, when she had found her rhythm.

They headed down to a beach, and, because no body was in sight, they had a little race, Hermione winning by just a fraction.

At first, she was unsure, only horses that had been accustomed to sand should gallop on it. But this died away as she realized, that the horses, indeed, were familiar with the sand, and rather enjoyed hearing the waves and sounds of the ocean.

Their ears twitched as they tried to hear even more. They loved the raced and neighed with pleasure whenever Draco or Hermione praised them.

Soon enough the horses were led through a gate to private landed. They tied the horses up to the fence, making sure that the horses had plenty of room to move about, before Draco took Hermione up a hill.

"Where are we going?" Hermione huffed behind him.

"You'll see." Draco replied, throwing his head over his shoulder.

"Draco…"

"You'll see"

The were some stone stairs, except, they were too high to be actual stairs. Draco grabbed Hermione's arm and helped her up the last one.

"Surprise."

Hermione drew in her breath.

They were on top of a cliff and in front of them they could see the ocean. For miles and miles sparkling blue could be seen. There was soft breeze in the air, lifting the smell of the fresh sea towards Hermione and Draco. Not a cloud in the sky and the view was perfect.

It was so perfect Hermione did not want to disrupt the silence, afraid it might break the enchanting scene.

"It's… it's…"

"You should see it in a storm."

They lay down, faces enjoying the warmth of the sun.

…

After a while Draco sat up.

"Hermione, you know I said we're going to talk?"

Hermione's heart sank and her stomach turned into a knot.

"Mmm."

"Well I think now would be a good time to do it."

Hermione sat up then.

"Why don't you eat?" Draco asked, softly, looking into her eyes.

She looked away.

"It's not that I don't want to, but I can't."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, confused, how an someone not have the ability to eat.

"I'm always hungry but when I see or smell food it grabs hold of me. It makes me panic, it scares me- the way I just freeze up or feel like I'm going to be sick… it reminds me."

Draco noticed the last part of Hermione's confession wavered, as if she might cry.

"But something must have made you that way. I mean, you don't just wake up one morning, and decide that food petrifies you. Do you?"

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat, she seemed to be doing that often these days, and bit her lower lip until it was sore.

She still refused to meet Draco's eyes, looking down at the grass.

"Hermione, you can tell me. I can't change what ever happened to make you like this, I can't promise I can take away your pain."

Draco rested his hand on Hermione's arm.

"But I can listen and give my voice, weather you like it or not is up to you. I can help you get through this, I can be that somebody you need to talk to. I can stand by you, I can protect you from anything else, I can care if you want me to. That I can promise to do."

Draco could feel Hermione breathing, he watched her body as it slowly moved up and down.

"If you talk to someone, you will feel better. If not me, then someone Hermione. But I hope that you trust me enough to let it be me."

Hermione heard his words. So many people had let her down lately. Her parents, Ron, and she hated to admit it, she felt guilty to admit it, but Harry too, had let her down.

Draco, Draco had tormented her, made her feel horrible and he had been terribly cruel. But, he had never let her down. She felt she could trust him, she felt safe with him, a feeling she rarely felt these days.

So, Hermione took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and took the plunge.

"It was Christmas eve."

" My parents were drunk. I was in the kitchen, starting to prepare Christmas dinner. They argued and went to bed. I stayed up, laid the table, set out presents under the tree for them, I really wanted to have a good Christmas, a family Christmas."

"I tried so hard, I was so tired when I went to bed. I had decorated the tree, put tinsel up, spread out sweets and nuts on the coffee table."

"They woke up with hangovers. They were grouchy when I gave them their presents, they were moody when they were watching tv. My mother, she wanted to go round her friend's house for Christmas. Dad didn't want her too."

"I announced dinner was ready. And then everything kicked off. My mother stated she wasn't a child and she was going round Vanessa's house. My father told her she wasn't. He threw the new watch I had bought him, she threw the phone I had bought her."

"I snapped. I told them I wanted to have a family Christmas, a good Christmas, just for once. I told them that I had put so much effort and care in everything, and they hadn't cared, they hadn't even noticed."

"My mother just told me to fuck off and left, slamming the door behind her. My father told me I was a freak, a waste of space. I told him he was lazy alcoholic git. He didn't care about me, the decorations or the food I had made. I went into the backroom and stared at all the food I had cooked."

"There were vegetables, pigs in blankets, roast turkey, ham, new glasses and plates, wine was in the three glasses, expensive wine. Gravy was in a jug in the centre of the table."

"He yelled at me. 'You want your fucking work appreciated?!' He spat in my face. Then he grabbed a fork, stuffed food on it and shoved it into my mouth."

"I tried to tell him I didn't want to eat it, I wasn't hungry. He pushed the fork right into my mouth, I thought he would shove it right down my throat so I began chewing and swallowing."

"He didn't stop. I tried to get up. He pinned me down. All the time he was stuffing food in my face and all I could was sit there ant take it. When I refused to open my mouth he held my nose. When I tried to get up again he punched me in the stomach."

"I refused to swallow, but he just jammed the food into my throat. I was shaking, crying, scared. He hit me if I spat it back out, he hit me if I took too long.""In the end I couldn't take it. I was going too slow for him, I had to swallow without chewing, and it hurt."

"The amount of fear I felt, the amount of food forced down me. I threw up, and couldn't stop. Disgusted at the sight of me, he left."

"I crawled to a corner and scrunched myself up. It just wouldn't stop. I tried to hold it back but it hurt, and would only come out even more than before. It hadn't even been digested or chewed properly and as it climbed back up it tore my throat. When all the food had come I started upchucking th acid in my stomach."

"It burnt my throat, pained my stomach. After that, blood started coming out of my mouth. Small clots of it, but they were getting bigger. My dad came in, said I was making too much noise and kicked me."

"I threw up blood once last time and collapsed. I slept for twenty three hours on a cold, wooden floor, surrounded by sick and blood. When I woke up the sight disgusted me. I saw the food still on the table, it smelt rotten, disgusting. I cleaned everything up, and then myself before fainting again."

"For the rest of the holidays they ignored me, for ruining their Christmas, for spoiling their day, for staining their wall and floor. They hit me and I spent the entire time in my bedroom. Safe, with my books. I only ever went out to go to the toilet or clean."

"Now every time I see or smell food I can feel my father forcing food down me, I can smell the food, the effort, the care I put into the Christmas dinner. I can feel it being ignored, I wasted my time, only to get hurt. I can taste the acid and blood in my mouth. I can feel my throat on fire and my body breaking down."

"The days that followed were just as bad. I don't want to end up scared like that again, I don't want to end up alone."

"I'm scared that if I eat, it will happen again. I felt so vulnerable, so helpless, defenceless, so… useless. I don't ever want to feel like that again. Every time I touch or taste food those memories overpower me, I can feel, mentally, what happened. But I don't ever, ever, want to physically feel that again, never."

The tears that had been waiting in Hermione's eyes were finally released.

Draco didn't say a word.

Hermione couldn't gather the courage to look at his face. She felt so, so pathetic.

Draco just pulled her towards him, taking her fragile frame in his arms, wrapping them round her tightly, certainly, safely, she buried her face into his chest.

He soothed her, stroking her hair and kissing the top of it every so often. He felt the tears and his wet shirt. He felt the body shaking in her arms.

She had always seemed so strong at school, and now, knowing something like this had happened, made him wonder how she done it. How she got trough seven an half moths with that fear on her.

But now, now that Draco knew, he would help her, he would maker her better. She had been exhausted mentally and physically for so long. On her own for so long. But now she wasn't alone, not anymore.

Draco didn't know for how long they sat like that. But eventually the sobbing and the tears subsided and she fell asleep.

Imagine being like that. Crying yourself to sleep.

Even thought the tears had stopped, the sobbing had stopped, the crying had stopped, the worrying, the aching, the fearing had remained. And her body was still shaking in his arms.

Even though she was no longer conscious Draco kept soothing her, stroking her hair and whispering comforting words to her.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, he didn't know what he could do, he didn't know what she wanted from him, he didn't know how, but he did know that he would help her.

And that was a promise.


	7. Memories

**Author's note: Abi wants to say that this chapter dioes have a point. She knows it is very soppy and everything, but Abi needs something to write for time to pass by. **

**Next chapter, expect something intresting, and in the chapter after that! Becuase they are exciting, ABi will write, or type, and post a.s.a.p, but now saying that, knowing Abi's luck, Abi will get stuck.**

**Still need to get more orange squash, running out.**

**So Abi's boring, soppy nonsense chapter that she needs to pass time- don't stop reading becuase of this one! Chapter eight will be here soon!**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter Seven: Memories

"How long have I been asleep for?" Hermione asked, barely moving in Draco's arms.

"My guess is two hours, three at the most."

"I'm sorry."

"for what?"

Their whispers died down into silence. A few clouds had come into view while Hermione had been sleeping, dusty pink and light orange shaded them, signalling sunset.

Hermione could not answer Draco's question. Why was she sorry? For telling him about Christmas? For falling asleep? She did not know, she frowned, she was still sleepy.

"I can't remember what happened."

She put a hand on the arm around her, as if to pull it closer.

"When?"

"After I told you."

"You cried, I comforted, you fell asleep, I comforted."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For listening."

"It's okay."

Their whispers continued, Hermione feeling safe in Draco's arms. She felt protected, safe, cared for.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Everything. About why I can't eat, about Christmas, about telling you."

Draco thought about it.

"I'm so pathetic."

The words stopped Draco in his tracks. He bent his head a little, so he could see the top of her head.

"Why are you pathetic?" His question was almost inaudible.

"For not being able to deal with it. For being able to cope."

"No one could have lasted as long as you have. You haven't taken it out on anyone else, you haven't turned into an arse or broken down in the middle of school. You've been hiding, which, is hard to do. You've been fighting on your own, which so much harder than just giving up."

"But it's going to be easier now. Because now, you have me here fighting with you, okay?"

He felt Hermione nod.

"I'm not so sure about the not taking it out on anyone else part."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Ron."

Draco gave a little chuckle.

"Listen to me. It is not your fault that Weasley is such a pompous twat when he can't have his own way. You would rather go to Italy then spend the summer with him, who you will be seeing non-stop for the next year anyway. Italy for a week or two, or being with somebody your going to be with for ages?"

Draco answered his own question.

"I don't know about you but Italy sounds pretty promising."

Hermione laughed a little.

"Why do you think he got so mad?"

"About not seeing you?"

Hermione gave a nod.

"Well I don't know… Italy means Rome, breath-taking sights, glorious weather, not to mention Italian boys."

Hermione laughed and Draco didn't have to see her face to know she had an eyebrow raised.

"You think he was jealous?"

"Yeah."

Draco heard the sorrow in her voice, it had been there ever since they had first started speaking. He desperately wanted it to go away.

"But knowing Weasly he was probably jealous because you get Italian food, fresh, from the very country itself."

Hermione laughed again, before resting her head back against his chest.

"We should probably head back." Hermione said, not wanting to hear her mother's shrill voice, the yelling of her father, but knowing it would get worse the longer she was away, she thought it was probably better to get back sooner than later.

Draco bent down and whispered in her ear.

"One more thing before we go."

"What?"

"I can't be hold responsible for what I might do to your parents."

Hermione whirled about in his arms.

"You can't tell them you know! You can't tell anyone!"

Hermione began to panic, Draco could see the fear in her eyes.

He didn't know what that fear was. Her parents might hit her? It wouldn't surprise him after what had happened. She might be taken away? He didn't know.

"Shhh! Calm down Hermione. I won't tell, if you get better. It's not a threat or black-mail or anything. But if you still keep fainting or are still unable to eat soon, you'll get worse Hermione. You could become very, very ill. If it does get to that stage then I will have to tell someone. For your health. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered in response, the panic vanished from her eyes.

He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

"But you won't get to that stage. I won't let you."

Hermione smiled, tears once more in her eyes. He helped her onto her horse, she was a bit light-headed and dizzy and tired from her cry, but she looked so much better.

Draco knew, he just knew, that she needed that cry. And so, together, they headed back to join the rest of the world.

…

"Where have you been?! We are supposed to go for dinner with Mr. Schambey, and you certainly can't go looking like that."

If looks could kill. Rachel was giving Hermione one, while Draco put his arm around Hermione. Her eyes darted from her to him.

"My uncle was well aware we went out for a horse-ride. We even rode two of his own horses which he offered. My uncle knows me and knows that I am always out for a long time with the horses. I am sorry for any inconvenience or worry I have caused you but I am to blame not Hermione."

Draco's tone was so cold and sharp it made Hermione shudder.

"Hermione, nice to see you. I trust my nephew took good care of you, you enjoyed the ride and liked the horses?"

Mr Schambey asked, suddenly coming into view.

"Mr Schambey. I loved the ride, the horses were beautiful and so kind, and Draco's company was wonderful. It has been my favourite day in Italy. So far."

"Wonderful!" He clapped his hands.

"Your not dressed for dinner." His disappointment was clear, he lowered his head.

"Uncle S, Hermione and I are tired and prefer something a little more light than a restaurant meal this evening."

Draco looked at his uncle, and some kind of message must have been passed between them because Mr Schambey no longer looked sad.

"Very well. Shall we go and find your husband Mrs Granger?"

"Of course. I shall have to buy a bell for him, and hang it round his neck so I won't loose him."

They laughed walking off.

"Come on." Draco said, leading Hermione to his room.

"So, now we, I, know what the problem is, I, we, need to come up with a way to get you over it."

Hermione, too tired to be polite sat down and curled up on Draco's sofa, while he paced up and down in front of her.

"Draco please stop pacing, it's making me dizzy."

Draco sighed but flopped onto the floor.

"let's not think about it tonight. We're both exhausted, just wait till tomorrow. You never know what a new day will bring."

"Fine, but, Hermione, you have to do what I say."

"Within reason I will." Hermione yawned.

"I'm bored."

"Draco, there's loads of stuff for you to do."

"I feel like singing."

"Then sing, nothing's keeping you back."

"Need music. Can't sing without music, no music." Draco muttered.

"Come on. Mr Schambey gave me a key to the music room. While we're there we may as well go over the lists."

"Do you ever stop working?"

"I don't work." Hermione turned red.

"You do. Your always doing school work, or homework, or some kind of work."

"Not proper work like a job."

"No, but your still working, trying, putting effort in, caring working."

"That's because I don't want to…"

Draco looked at her, she looked guilty.

"End up like my parents."

Draco nodded slowly, typical for Hermione Granger to be guilty about a thought like that.

"There's no shame in wanting a better future for yourself."

"I know but…"

"No buts. Come one, music room."

"No my room."

"Your room, why your room miss Granger?"

"Because, Draco, I have the music books and the key in my room."

"Oh very well, to you room."

They walked to Hermione's room and collected the things they needed before heading to the music room.

…

"Most of these are Disney."

"Is that such a bad thing."

"But Hermione, you really think that guests are going to want to watch a bunch of kids playing music?"

"If it's short and sweet than yes."

"Even if you wrong your right in some other way."

"Yup."

"Hermione, can anyone win an argument against you?"

Hermione tilted her head to one side and laughed.

"Not likely. At least, not the students in school."

Draco laughed then.

It was surprising how many times certain songs were chosen.

It ended up with:

1. A whole new world- Aladdin

2. Beauty and the beast- Beauty and the beast

3. If I never knew you- Pocahontas

4. Colours of the wind- Pocahontas

5. Circle of life- Lion king

6. Heaven's light- Hunchback of Notre Dame

7. God help the outcasts- Hunchback of Notre Dame

8. New York city- Oliver and Company

9. I can go the distance- Hercules

10. Shooting star- Hercules

The common songs chosen were all Disney.

"Not a bad choice." Draco said, there were songs everyone could sing, duets, and solos.

Hermione nodded, her own favourite duet was on that list, and taking one of her books she walked over to the piano, and began to play.

"If I never knew you…"

Draco began. Hermione listened to her playing and his voice, loosing herself in the music as she often did. The sound was, beautiful, magical. Perfect.

Draco waited for her to begin singing, but she didn't, she carried on playing until she realized she could no longer hear the angelic voice.

"How come you didn't sing?"

"I don't sing."

"Why note?"

"You really want more tears shed."

Draco sighed, and sat down, pulling a chair next to Hermione's stool.

"Tell you what. You tell me yours, and then I'll tell you mine."Hermione pouted slightly, but told her story.

She explained how she had promised herself not to sing after her grandmother passed away. How she wanted her grandmother to have something that was special to both of them.

"Hermione, as sweet as that is, I don't think your grandmother would have taken the gift, no offence."

Of course Draco had realized something that Hermione had yet again failed to see.

"What's that then?"

"As much as your grandmother would be overwhelmed at the thought. She wouldn't want something so precious to her to go to waste. He want' you to use it, be happy using it, and use it the best you can."

"I don't know. It's just been so long since I sung."

Draco ran his hand through his white-blond hair, only to let it fall back into his eyes again.

"Hermione, do you enjoy singing. Forget about everyone else for a moment. Do you enjoy it?"

"I loved it, it was my favourite thing in the world. But…"

"No more buts." Draco cut in.

"Hermione if you love it then sing. Sing for you, sing for your grandmother."

Hermione nodded.

"Your turn."

Draco was surprised, no tears, no fainting. He made a concerned face in mockery.

"I have gotten over this long ago, stopping singing helped me, but I think I've been needing to sing."

"Then sing Hermione."

"Not before you tell me your story."

Draco sighed and told her of how he had never wanted to be evil, follow in his father's or Voldermort's footsteps.

He told Hermione that, for the first 11 years of his life his only friends, the only people he trusted weren't people at all but animals.

He explained that he loved Uncle S to pieces. He was his hero, his saviour, his role model when Draco was small. Luscious never accepted Draco liked singing, or the fact that Draco was good. Better than good. Uncle S did.

So, Draco began singing in secret, going to muggle lessons, secretly paid for out of his pocket money.

And then the whole incident with his grandmother dying and Uncle S and Luscious falling out, and, Draco realizing he may never see his uncle again sung for a week non-stop.

There was nothing Luscious could do, more important things were on his mind.

By the time Luscious got around to sorting out the singing thing it was too late.

Narcissa had showed him off to everyone, all saying he was a little dear. It was the only thing Draco had ever done to defy his father, until the ester holidays, four years later.

He then explained how he was going to bear the dark mark, whether he wanted to or not. And how he couldn't deal, so, he got out A.S.A.P and went to Dumbledore, asking for help.

And then, how, after four and a half years of not seeing his uncle, Draco was reunited with him at the beginning of the summer holidays.

"Wow. Your life is worse then mine."

"That is a matter of perspective Hermione."

Wanting to get of the subject, Draco returned to the singing.

"Ready to show me your voice?"

"Don't get you hopes too high Draco."

"Wouldn't dream of it Hermione."

She began the song from the beginning, Draco singing with his amazing voice.

When it came for Hermione to sing, she took a breath and went for it.

Draco heard her, a little unsure at first- she hadn't sung for years after all, but she got into the song and although Hermione could no longer hit certain notes or do specific rolls, she was still amazing.

Despite not exercising her voice for all that time.

They finished, and the magic ended, but it left races of it.

Both Hermione and Draco felt strangely pleasant, almost as if seeing the first flower of spring, or feeling the first drop of rain after a hot and long drought.

"Let's listen to it."

"How?" Hermione asked.

Draco pulled out a small cd player and microphone.

"You recorded it?!"

"Surprise. Hermione, before you go off on one, please just listen."

He played it back, and both were speechless, they didn't really sound that good, did they?

Hermione was less shocked, she knew she could play that song, and she heard Draco sing, but she didn't know she could still sound like that, her voice struggled with some notes, but could easily be sorted if she started using it once more.

They both heard the depth of each other as they listened to their singing, the yearn to be loved, and Draco also heard something else… the chemistry?

His eyes widened and he felt completely self conscious. He was suddenly nervous and could find nothing to say.

This time it was not Hermione who felt like she was making a fool of herself.

"I… er. You… me… bye!" Draco bolted out the door, leaving it open behind him.

What on earth had gotten into him?

…

The next few days were great for Hermione. Draco apologized for his behaviour, and they were closer than before. She loved her music class and had gotten to know the kids, her parents both seemed content, Mr Schambey and all of his joy could be heard, his hands clapping habit never dying.

She got to visit towns and villages, see the beautiful seas, feel the incredible whether, go to cities and monuments, landmarks and historical places.

And all the time Draco was there beside her, making her laugh, making her feel happy and safe. Hermione never thought she'd say this but she was happy Draco was her friend.

Underneath the arrogance, the prejudice, the cruelness, the coldness, the sneer, Draco was a really sweet guy.

Hermione learned so much about him in the short time they had spent together.

He was quiet and thoughtful, and although he appeared upfront and big headed, it was just to hide his real modesty and, fear.

He was protective as well. Hermione was in stitches, when he took her to a village and a pizza boy started hitting on her.

"So, you from England? I love the language, so many amazing minds. Shakespeare, need I say more."

"Your really good at speaking it." Hermione said, hardly anyone she met had spoken English.

"Ah, got to know that language, that is if you wanna end up with a pretty bird on your arm, such as yourself."

Draco hearing this had gone over to Hermione, who was red, she wasn't pretty, why was the Italian boy saying she was. Not that mattered, after the look Draco gave him it was clear he wouldn't bother him again.

If looks could kill. He gently pulled Hermione away. Hermione was laughing so hard, at the boy's dismay and Draco's fury. Why was he so mad?

Anyway, the day was glorious after that. They looked in all the shops, talked with locals and still managed time to teach their kids. No in that order, obviously.

Hermione also discovered Draco loved taking pictures. With a muggle camera as well as the wizarding ones that allowed the picture to move.

It just so happened, that when they went on horses, another favourite pass time, they stumbled across an old path in the woods.

"Hang on, let's go through here."

"Draco, I don't think we should. We don't know this place."

"No, I remember it from before."

He lept of his horse, Hermione followed suit, as Draco cleared the branches in the way. On foot they led their horses through the old, abandoned path.

"I knew this was it!" Draco smiled, and Hermione thought she could see a rare sparkle in his eye.

The place he had led them too was… breath-taking, magical, beautiful, unreal.

There was a clearing, the bank of a river, the water so pure and clean. The soft breeze swam through the leaves of the many trees that surrounded them.

"Aunt Marie used to bring me here every summer we stayed with them when I was a kid. He sat down, hid hands running through the grass. He watched the water flow, and he, no he couldn't could he?

The last time he couldn't hear them, so why should he now?

But yes, there it was, the clear voice, beautiful, unworldly voice of the fairies.

They could hit the highest and deepest notes and yet their voice would be soft, they didn't need to stop for breathes that long.

And their favourite thing was to sing a string of endless notes, no words, no music needed, it got right to a human's heart.

Hermione too heard the sound. Draco didn't ask, he could tell by the dazed look on her face.

Draco, wondered if they remembered him, and hummed softly, while in his mind asking, praying, for them to come out of hiding.

He did what so many wizards thought were below them. The proud, arrogant, self centred, surface person- not true person, facing the river he bowed to one of the smallest creatures known.

The fairies themselves were to happy to notice at first, but they heard the voice they had not heard for a long, long while, and saw the blond snowy hair and the stormy eyes.

The tall, brown ringlet woman, was not with him, they sensed her song ended a while back.

But they were still happy too see such an old friend. They remembered him as a shy, scared little boy, no he was a man, almost at least.

They darted out from their bush, tickling with their dust, the wings beating furiously, their bodies aglow.

Hermione gasped, and sat down beside Draco.

Fairies, only liked decent hearted people. And seeing, Hermione, as a good person, they welcomed her.

And so, Draco and Hermione shared the experience together.

Draco, being united with his only childhood friends, while Hermione met them for the first time.

They sung, danced, talked, played, ran with the fairies.

Draco took many photos of the place, the fairies refusing to be in any. He used a wizarding camera, so he would be able to see the magic, not just the image of it.

Hermione, while Draco was using his camera, sat down, right on the edge of the bank. She swirled her finger in the river.

The fairies, being entirely good and magical, could sense it. So they decided to help.

Four disappeared only to come back with a fine, thin, ring of flowers, which they placed over Hermione's head, making it rest just in the middle of the forehead.

Five other fairies placed themselves around her, careful not to block her face.

Hermione laughed and smiled, not a huge goofy grin, but a beautiful, sweet smile.

The three other fairies turned Draco around, and he caught the scene almost instantly, seeing Hermione with that smile, and five fairies floating around her, it warmed his heart.

But like all things it had to end.

The fairies soon went off to find their own kind, seeming like just a bit of light you see out of the corner of your eye, thinking your mind is playing tricks on you.

Hermione's phone rang and answered it to find the screams of her mother.

Sighing, they walked through the oath, climbed onto the horses and galloped back to the hotel.

On the way back they talked.

"I can't believe it over was a week ago when I made that unfortunate promise."

Hermione could not believe she had been in Italy for almost two weeks. Then, thinking about the words, she flinched, did Draco not want to help her anymore? Did he no longer like her?

"Why was it an unfortunate promise?" She tried to keep her voice steady, dreading the answer.

"Hermione, of course I want to help you still!" Draco exclaimed, horrified, seeing her pained face, then warm flowed through him as he saw her relief.

"I didn't mean the actual promise was unfortunate, just the circumstances you were under, for me to make the promise in the first place. That is the unfortunate bit.. The fact that he… you know."

Hermione nodded absently and laughed.

"I'm sorry. Come on, race you back!"

And that was how their best day in Italy ended. Their best day in Italy so far.


	8. A taste of love

**Author's note: Abi is back. She's so sorry that she's been gone for so long!**

**Chapter eight is here, chapter nine soon, hopefully.**

**While Abi wasn't here hse got more orange squash, but the three bottles have all gone now, and she needs more...again!**

**If people like Abi then read her one-shot- Too late. Abi doesn't know if anyone will like it but Abi's first one-shot, and she loves them, so she hopes people look and like it.**

**One more thing before Abi goes, well actually a couple of things.**

**1.) Would Abi's readers like her to make chapter one a bit less blocky?**

**2.) Would Abi's readers like a preview of the next chapter in her future chapters/stories?**

**3.) And would they like more one-shots?**

**Okay Abi is really going to say bye bye now.**

**Bye bye! Oh and...**

**Enjoy..**

Chapter Eight: A taste of love

"Everyone is getting ready." Draco came in, and stood behind her, watching from the floor, as the entertainment workers finished setting up the stage for them.

"Okay everyone. You have all done fantastic and I'm sure everyone will be very proud of you. Now, this our last rehearsal, let's make it a good one!" Hermione shouted.

She nodded to the cd player guy person, who pressed play. Slowly they filed onto the stage from either side, their white clothing reflecting the lighting.

They opened their mouths and began to sing.

The rehearsal was quite bad, people didn't have the right instruments, the microphones weren't working.

"okay everyone, that was okay, but what are we going to do tonight?"

"Make it better!" Someone shouted, and they all chorused.

"Make it better!"

"Good, now go have fun, relax. Until the show."

Slightly relieved they all left the hall, until, only Hermione and Draco were left.

"You know what they say." Draco smiled, trying to lighten a down Hermione.

"No, what?"

"Bad dress, good show!"

Hermione laughed and Draco shook his head.

They had three hours to kill before the show started at six.

Hermione followed Draco reluctantly, she wanted to rehearse on the piano more, but Draco wouldn't hear of it.

"Where we going?"

"To remind your parents they have a dinner tonight with Uncle S."

"Draco…"

"It'll be fine."

So, they walked to Hermione's parent's room, the door was wide open, and screaming could be heard.

"You FAT LAZY GIT! No wonder WHY I did it!"

"YOU WHORE! YOU SLUT! Your forty nine, fifty almost, and still going round in a mini skirt and short dress. MIINI SKIRT AT FIFTY FOT FUCK'S SAKE!!"

"YOU GOT IT, YOU FLAUNT IT!"

"YOU WHORE…"Hermione sighed and just shook her head, while Draco was shocked. They had seemed like such nice people.

"Draco… let's go." Hermione whispered, pulling on Draco's arm.

Draco saw her, it was the same look he had seen on his own face countless times in the mirror.

She just wanted to live without her parents fighting. If they hated each other that much why not just split and move on? It was better than being miserable and angry twenty four seven.

Like Draco, Hermione just wanted to have parents that loved her.

Like, Draco, that was not the case.

"Yeah… let's go."

He put his round Hermione, giving her a comforting squeeze.

…

"Ladies and Gentleman, and anyone else who may be in here, as you know for the last couple of years Mr Schambey has organized a day camp, as such, for the children that stay here, giving the children and parents fun and relaxation. This year Hermione and I taught the two week music programme."

"And as a way to show their hard work to you, we have organized a short concert, in which they will perform. They have worked very hard, making close new friends and want their parents to be with them."

"So without further a due, we present this year's summer music students."Hermione and Draco, in the black suit and long black evening dress, both looked stunning.

Children came out, while the first song, circle of life, played. They stood centre stage, in front of the benches and music stands.

Song after song came, each ended with a huge round of applause.

Half way through they stopped for a break.

The flutes and violins and guitars were left on stage, so they would remember their places.

While Hermione was calming a nervous Adam Mr Schambey snuck back stage.

"My dears. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"

The children were delighted, this figure, so high and well known was congratulating them.

Hermione and Draco sorted out the music, the children were nervous but positively glowing.

The lights dimmed once more, the curtains opened and their show continued.

Hermione was glad to see that the adults were respecting the children, quietening down, stopping conversations to watch and listen.

It was a girl and a boy singing.

The boy opened his mouth but, no words came out.

Hermione could see panic in his eyes, she begged silently that he wouldn't give up.

Max turned to watch Hermione, the music started again and Hermione mouthed the words.

Mac began singing.

"I can open your eyes…"

Max started of nervous and shy, his voice deeply being affected by it. By the time he and Sally were both singing he was having the time of his life.

Draco smiled to himself as he watched Hermione help Max. He felt so bad for her, she could always help other people, but not herself.

The song ended to a massive applause, and two beaming children.

The show carried on, the parents and adults in general, loved watching the end to the hard work a group of little kids had done.

Eventually it came to the last song. Everyone sang and played together, it was beautiful.

Draco and Hermione could see a couple of kids come of stage right after the song, and they watched them cursorily as they buzzed about.

"Before we go we have one more song to perform."

"Well, not us exactly."

"To show you how great our teachers are, we have organized a song for them."

"And the best part is, they don't know they're singing it!"

"Well now they do!"

"So ladies and gentleman, we present to you, Hermione and Draco."

The adult laughed when one child would just pop something out, and laughed harder when two of the little busy bees behind the stage pushed out the two teens.

"So, If I never knew you from Disney's Pocahontas!"

"Sung by Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

"It's their favourite song."

Two little kids gave their microphones to Draco and Hermione, who were completely speechless, and utterly confused.

"Oh, look at that, they missed their cue!"

"Not a very good way to show how talented you are."

"Missing cues isn't being talented."

"Precisely."

"Well, let's get on with it."

That made Hermione laugh, the song began again, and Draco got his cure perfect.

Hermione sung, with, what she hoped, her arm on her sleeve.

Her and Draco faced each other, than looked at the audience.

And all the time Hermione loved it.

She loved people listening to her, loved the sound, the music, she could make.

Her and Draco finished the song, to a silent audience.

The kids stood around them and were grinning, the audience in their seats were grinning, Hermione and Draco were grinning.

The audience burst into an applause, and they got a wolf-whistle when Draco leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

She barely was able to control herself, resisting the temptation to raise her hand to her cheek.

Her heart was skipping, she couldn't think clearly.

And she loved it.

"Shhh! Excuse me." Lucy began, taking a microphone off of Draco.

"HELLO!" Adam shouted into the microphone he had impatiently grabbed from Hermione.

The people settled down.

"Thankyou." Adam said.

Lucy gave him a look, telling him and everyone else she was not pleased.

She carried on.

"We would just to take up another moment of your time."

"We want to say thank you to a few people." Adam joined in.

"First of all, thankyou to Mr Schambey, who started this programme, and allowed us to have a great holiday."

Mr Schambey had tears in his eyes as two little people revealed flowers, hopped of stage, ran over to him, gave him the flowers, and hugged him.

"And a thankyou to Switch, who helped us get ready and played the cd for us."

The entertainment manager came out on stage, and received flowers.

They couldn't pronounce his name, so, in rehearsals they had nick-named him Switch.

"And last, but not least…"

"I don't get it."

"Me neither."

"Anyway…" Lucy cut in, giving a stern look at everyone else behind her.

"A big, big, big thank you to Hermione and Draco!"

Both of them were handed a huge bouquet of flowers, and an enormous card addressed tot hem, with glittery hand-prints all over the front and a big thank you inside.

All of the kids had written their names and signed the card. Hermione and Draco held the card between them, shocked that their kids had taken the time to do something like this.

Draco took the microphone and made a short speech.

"Thankyou very much. Hermione and I would like to say thank you to all the kids, who worked extremely hard and made it fun for them, and us."

"Even though we helped them and guided them, they done this themselves, the talent and the determination is in them."

Hermione finished.

The kids started hugging their teachers and one another.

"We hope you enjoyed the show. Thankyou and goodnight."

The curtains closed and the audience clapped the loudest they had in the night.

After all the hugging, and the rest, they each began to leave, returning to their parents.

Hermione and Draco went over to their table, but neither sat down.

Hermione looked at her parents, they didn't look proud, like Mr Schambey did. They didn't look happy or pleased, in fact, they looked rather miserable.

And Hermione knew it was because she had proved them wrong.

They thought she would fail, humiliate herself.

But she hadn't.

"Won't you join us?" Mr Schambey indicated to two chairs, meant for them, oblivious to the way the Grangers suddenly tensed, the way Hermione looked uncomfortable, and the new protective gleam in Draco's eye.

"Actually, Hermione and I have had enough noise for one night. We're going to go and have a snack, somewhere quieter."

Mr Schambey looked disappointed, Hermione's parents relived.

"Don't worry Mr Schambey, we can all have a meal together tomorrow. Or something." Hermione said, she couldn't bear to see Mr Schambey unhappy, it just didn't suit him to have a frown on his normally smiley face.

Clearly neither party had anything to say, and Draco was nervous and excited about his surprise.

"Well, see you later." Draco led Hermione away.

"Go change into something more comfortable, and meet me here in ten minutes." Draco said, before running off.

Hermione shook her head, making her way to her room.

…

Hermione changed into a pair of shorts her mother had brought her, they were short shorts. Nothing like what Hermione would normally wear.

She pulled a black strappy top on and let her hair loose, where it had been it now came down, ringlets framing her face.

Grabbing her key and purse and bag she slipped into trainers and left.

Meeting Draco, who had also changed into jeans and a white, light shirt, they left the hotel together.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Draco replied.

They walked through the hotel's grounds, and after a few minutes came to a lake.

It was a natural, as in non man-made, with rich grassy banks and trees surrounding it.

Hermione saw a blanket, candles and a picnic basket.

She couldn't say anything.

Draco bit his lip, her was nervous, he didn't know if he was pushing Hermione too fast to soon, but he wanted to let her know he was trying, he was caring.

Hermione herself felt the normal fear grab her heart, but something else stirred inside of it. Draco had gone through all this trouble simply because he wanted to help.

She had to at least try and eat something, for his sake.

She took a deep breathe, something she seemed to be doing often these days.

"Come on then."

She led the way to the blanket and sat down, Draco sat down opposite her, leaning against the trunk of a rather gorgeous, magnificent olive tree.

After a few moments Draco couldn't take it anymore, and his usual, sarcastic self came through.

"Great, first thing on the menu-awkwardness, just what I ordered."

Hermione was surprised, but she was pleased to see Draco hadn't changed completely.

"Well I didn't order it. In fact I haven't ordered anything, so what's on the menu?"

Hermione asked, and the tension, suddenly broke away. Now both understood the meaning, breaking the ice.

Draco, wasn't sure why, but he was desperate to make Hermione laugh.

"Well Madam, for starters we have…"

She laughed at Draco's posh voice as he reached inside the basket.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure you don't mean dessert?" Hermione asked, staring at the box of strawberries.

The strawberries were hand picked from the private gardens of Mr Schambey, fresh, juicy, and very, very red.

"Well actually Madam, that is the only thing we have on our menu at present. You see a very silly boy wanted only summer foods to be brought, and, strawberries were the only thing the fool could think of."

Draco still carried on in his posh, snobbish accent, and his heart fluttered when Hermione joined in.

She sat up properly, and put on the same tone.

"Well, I am here now, and I suppose strawberries will have to do."

"Madam, they are the finest, sweetest, juiciest, reddest strawberries in all the world."

He spoke, pulling two little glass bowls out, followed by two spoons, one knife and a mini cutting board.

"And, Madam, might I add we may only have strawberries, but we have the most glorious item that can compliment strawberries like no other."

And Draco pulled out a tub of cream. Hermione laughed.

"Oh well, in that case, I am obliged to try, and see if your strawberries live up to your words."

She said, and then watched as Draco cut each strawberry up into smaller pieces, and share them equally among the two bowls.

They quite happily sat in silence as Draco cut up the remaining strawberries.

Hermione's heart was racing, and every so often she raised her eyes to watch Draco's face.

Without any need to wrap himself up in his bubble of arrogance and cruelness to protect himself, Draco was, for the first in a long time, relaxed.

And Hermione saw the utter beauty of him.

Draco, was aware of eyes flickering up to gaze at his own, before being lowered again and a faint red staining his companion's cheeks.

Even though Hermione didn't know it, Draco's heart, too, was beating faster and harder than normal.

Hermione herself, was in good moods, she did not feel sick at the sight of food, even if it was only strawberries, the smell did not make her feel dizzy, and, Draco was here for her should anything happen.

"I believe, your meal is ready." Draco finally said as he pulled back the cover off the cream.

"Oh yes, I see, a meal fit for a king." She replied, she went to grab the bowl, but Draco stopped her.

"Wait." His hand reached hers, putting the bowl back down.

Draco picked up a single, small quarter of a strawberry, and dunked it in the cream, when it had stopped dripping.

She was beginning to panic. Here it was, she thought. Her breathing became shallow.

"Ready?"

She could not trust herself to speak.

"Close your eyes." Draco whispered.

She did, shutting them softly, and when she felt a warm hand against her cheek she sighed, unaware of her actions until, it had already happened.

Draco, with one hand strong and protective against her soft, smooth cheek raised the one which held the strawberry and slowly, gently, slid it into her mouth.

At first, he could see her panic, but following his instincts, he put his other hand to her other cheek, and comforted it.

"Feel the juice? Taste the sweetness? That's the taste of summer. Bright, warm, shiny summer. Where the Sun shines bright and light, where birds sing and fairies dance in the night. Where you can run free across meadows and grassy hills with a gentle breeze on your face."

"Taste it Hermione, taste summer." He whispered.

He felt her swallow the strawberry.

Hermione did not want to open her eyes. She felt so… relaxed, peaceful.

As the strawberry had led it's coldness, sweetness spread through her mouth, she listened to the beautiful voice, felt the warm hands on her skin, pictured the words he was telling her.

She could see herself and Draco, holding hands, running through meadows, and up a hill, green, healthy grass beneath their bare feet, the wind flowing through her hair, and cooling their hot faces.

She could see the fairies dancing by the moonlight, surrounded by wild flowers in bloom, healthy, young trees standing feet tall.

She could hear birds singing, a sweet, tune, the kind that made you gaze out at the world in front of you, the kind of song that you could only hear in summertime.

She could see the Sun, shining bright and strong in all it's glory. She felt the warm rays touch her body, seep into it and warm her very core up. It encircled her heart, realising it of it's former holder of misery and the sense of being lost.

She could feel warmth. She could feel hope. She could feel love.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, to find two grey eyes, stormy eyes with a trace of the purest blue ice in them, staring back.

Draco watched the small smile appear on her face as he finished his words. Waiting for a moment or two, he saw the eyelids of Hermione slowly open.

Her eyes were… were… alive.

She had the familiar gleam in her eyes, the gleam that used to be there before. He could see hope, warmth, and a calmness. And something else, something else he could not quite gather.

He began to take one hand away, but her own hand raised up and put it back to where it had been before.

Hermione's hand pressed lightly against Draco's, which was back at her cheek.

All this time they never took their hand off of each other.

"Draco I…"

Draco then knew what it was in her eyes. The thing he could see but not understand.

It was love.

Draco moved closer. Hermione looked down.

He then slid his free hand down and lifted her chin, gently encouraging her to look up.

She did.

He leaned in and kissed her.

His lips touched hers, and just melted, they were so soft.

After a while they parted.

Draco looked at Hermione.

She looked perfect. She was glowing, and it wasn't the silver moonlight in her hair. She seemed so calm, and he loved that about her.

He loved her.

Hermione looked at Draco.

He looked so sincere, not at all how he used to look with his stupid sneer.

But she understood that now.

She understood that he used it to protect himself, from others, from his father.

She loved that about him.

She loved him.

They kissed once more, his hand moved to the back of her head, entwining itself into her hair.

She parted, and he bought her into a hug.

She rested her head against his chest, and he out his chin on the top of her head.

"I believe, that there or strawberries that need to be eaten." Hermione whispered. She felt Draco smile and nod slightly. They broke apart, and began eating, talking.

Hermione didn't even take into account she was eating, of course she knew she was, but she was so happy she just didn't think about it until her bowl was empty.

Draco had finished his own strawberries, and they carried on talking.

She popped her last on into her mouth, and a little bit of juice escaped, slipping down the edge of her mouth.

Draco, without even thinking, moved forwards, and got rid of it, in a small, soft kiss.

He then pulled Hermione into a kiss, and pulled her back with him.

His back was against the tree, his feet on the floor and his legs open, with Hermione in between them. His arms were wrapped around her, hands resting lightly on her back.

She had her chest against his and was kissing him.

It wasn't passionate.

It wasn't protective like Ron's were.

It wasn't Draco kissing Hermione when she didn't want to be kissed.

They were lazily kissing together, and left them both, in complete, total, utter bliss.

They both heard a thunder crack and suddenly, without any warning rain poured down, soaking them both in seconds.

Hermione laughed, turning to look at the sky.

Draco too laughed, giving Hermione another kiss before they both stood up and packed away.

The candles had been put out, but they could see clearly by the silvery moon.

They stood like that for a minute or so.

Clean water, soaking them to the bone, making them feel alive, free and alive. They saw it fall in front of the full moon.

It was beautiful.

Hermione held the basket, and Draco wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. Hermione looked up at him, and knew, she would never, ever feel the same way about another man.

They kissed, and another fork of lightning struck somewhere.

"I think we better go inside." Draco murmured.

He grabbed her hand, and together they ran through the heavy, cold rain, feeling so happy, safe, loved, which neither had felt in a long, long time.

…

Reaching the hotel they immediately went to Draco's room in the family quarters.

Draco opened the door, chucked the basket into a corner of the room, and kissed Hermione.

After what they had both felt, they were wet, their spirits were high, they were in love, it wasn't hard to guessed what happened next.

Soon enough Draco and Hermione were both naked, on Draco's bed.

Hermione was so excited, Draco treated her so differently to what Ron did. With Ron it was always just a kiss, but when Draco's lips touched hers, she was in heaven, she was complete, there was nothing wrong in the world.

Hermione was lost in her passion, and only when Draco moved on top of her did Hermione break from the kisses.

"Draco I've never… I'm a…"

Draco's eyes widened.

Of course he knew she wasn't a slut like most girls in their year, but he thought she had gone somewhere, at least with weasel.

"You're a virgin?"

She nodded, red and clearly embarrassed

"Hermione. We don't have to… I didn't mean too… I'm so sorry." Draco began.

"Draco stop, you haven't actually done anything."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry."

He continued.

"If you don't want to… I'll stop." Draco said, and started to get up.

Hermione clung onto him, and pulled him back down.

"I never said I wanted you to stop." She whispered.

"Are you sure? Are you sure your ready, because the last thing I want to do is…"

"Draco, listen to me." She raised a hand to his cheek, and stared into his eyes.

"I want to do this. I am ready." She pulled him into a kiss, and so, it began.

Draco was completely gentle, his hands explored her, as hers did him.

Eventually they stopped, climbed into bed, embracing the warmth and began to talk.

Or whisper.

"I don't want to go."

"Then don't." Draco replied.

"You don't mind?"

"No, but if you stay here, your going to have to put up with silence. I'm tired."

He pulled Hermione closer, so he could feel her body against his, feel her warmth, just her was enough for him to give up any and everything.

He reached over and turned off the lamp, blanketing them in a comforting, and welcoming darkness.

Within minutes Hermione could feel Draco's even breathing, and she knew he was asleep.

She thought about what had happened. She had eaten. She had lost her virginity.

That was such a blunt way of putting it. She hadn't lost anything, if anything, she had gained so much more.

They hadn't had sex, fast, passionate, wasting.

They had made love, gentle, caring love.

And no one, no one, could have treated Hermione as Draco had done.

She could not think of anyone she would rather give herself too.

She had made love, she had found love.

And, this person loved her back.


	9. Out of sight

**Author's note: Here it is! Abi has finally posted chapter 9.**

**She thinks chapter 10 will be more exciting, she's very good at dragging things on - sorry thats why she hasn't got far in the story yet!**

**Abi still needs answers to her questions! **

**(Thanks Sarah, Abi loves you lots!)**

**Chapter 10 will have a preview of Chapter 11 at the bottom, watch out for it.**

**As for one shots, SAbi'll write one when something she like popps into her mind, she has a few ideas for a draco/harry one.**

**Anyways that's all for now, oh except she has stocked up on orange squash!**

**As always...**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter Nine: Out of sight.

Hermione awoke, feeling warm, safe, and happy. She snuggled further into the figure she felt behind her.

Never, did she think she would end up in a bed with Draco Malfoy.

Never, did she think she would end up head over heels in love with Draco Malfoy.

But, she was.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

"Are you awake?" She whispered.

"I am now." Was the reply from a yawning Draco.

He kissed the base of her neck.

Hermione closed her eyes.

"You know what?"

Hermione could feel his lips move against her skin as she spoke.

"What?"

"It's the middle of summer, In Italy, with someone with me, in bed, with full sheets and an over-blanket on."

Hermione was too sleepy to wonder what on earth he was on about.

"To put it bluntly, I am boiling. Very, very hot. Well of course I am, I mean who wouldn't be with this body, but yes. I fancy diving into a pool. A freezing, deep, long pool."

Hermione rolled over so she faced him.

Draco quickly kissed her, before allowing her to continue with what ever it was she was going to say.

"Arrogant much?"

"Who wouldn't be with a wonderful creature, such as yourself, beside him?"

Hermione blushed and hid her face by tucking it under Draco's chin.

"So, about that swim?"

Draco got up and began to look through his drawers for a pair of swimming trunks.

He, was completely naked, and Hermione could see all his birthday glory.

"Like what you see?" Draco asked, pulling out some clothes and chucking them onto the chair before jumping onto the bed and kissing Hermione deeply.

Hermione herself, got dressed and was much more subtle and shy of her body.

Soon enough she was out of Draco's room and in her own, looking for her swimsuits.

"No, no no! Mum please tell me you didn't?!"

Hermione spoke into her phone.

"I'm sorry Hermione but bikinis are so much more fashionable, with swimsuits like those, what boy in his right mind would show any interest in you?"

Hermione angrily hung up.

Her mother had gotten rid of all her bathing costumes and replaced them with skimpy bikinis.

All equally embarrassing and horrifying to her, she closed her eyes, chose one at random and shoved it into her bag without looking.

Now ready she walked through the hotel, unsure of what pool Draco was in.

Knowing Draco, she decided with the biggest one, which, was also empty at that present time.

It was a sunny day, with a cool breeze flowing through the air, and most people thought it too much an opportunity to pass on, with Italy being stuffy hot and humid.

She changed into her bikini.

It was worse than she thought.

It was a black, silky one, with a halter neck, and back. Covering her breasts were two little triangle pieces of silky material.

The bikini bottom was simply like underwear, apart from the two stringy sides, that were only done up in a bow, making it easy to adjust the size.

This was the kind of bikini models wore, drop dead gorgeous models.

Not intelligent, geeky, shadowed, over looked people like Hermione.

Wrapping her towel about her, bag over her shoulder she left for the pool… and for Draco.

That's when it hit her.

Draco was going to see her in this.

Oh My God.

She was humiliated. She did not want to go swimming.

She entered the room to see Draco already swimming up and down.

He was the only one in there, which made it so much worse.

If other people had been there, less attention would be on her, but, now, with this one, particular, person in the room, it was so much more embarrassing.

"You coming in?"

Hermione shook her head, refusing to take the towel off.

"Come on, water is lovely."

Again she shook her head.

Draco was utterly bewildered by her behaviour, until, he caught her mumbling something, he could not hear the sentence, but caught certain words, 'swimsuit', 'mother', 'gone', 'bikini instead'.

He laughed.

"It's nothing I haven't seen already darling."

Sighing Hermione walked to the deeper end of the pool, Draco swimming in the enormous thing, in line with her.

"If you don't get in I am going to come and throw you in myself. Towel or no towel."

Hermione dropped the towel, chucked it onto the seating that boarded the room, and dove into the pool as fast as she could.

Draco floated there, stunned.

He saw her thin, beautiful body quickly and modestly form into a dive, gracefully.

She looked, looked, hot.

No other word for it.

She came up with a big breathe, moving her wet hair away from her face.

"You look…"

Draco couldn't finish the sentence.

Hermione braced herself, what was he going to do, tease, mock, insult, blackmail?

She looked at him, and found no laughter or sneer on his face, just a look that would make strangers think he had seen angels, in all their beauty.

He moved forward, and kissed her.

It was a slow, loving kiss, and both had their eyes closed.

They were leaning against the wall at the deep end, playfully splashing each other.

Hermione was still gazing in awe at the Olympic sized swimming pool.

"Race you." She said.

Draco raised an eyebrow, making his feet touch the wall, and his hands grabbing the ledge, gladly accepting the challenge.

They both got into their positions.

"Three… two… one… go!"

They were off, swimming as fast as they could.

Draco, was competitive when it came to sport. Quiditch, swimming, running, you name it.

And glee came into his eyes as he himself leaving Hermione behind.

He turned over, pushing himself off the shallow-end wall, and soon Hermione was passing him, on her way to the wall himself.

When he was roughly two thirds up the length he heard splashing, coming nearer and nearer.

Hermione shot past him, obviously she was a better than swimming then she had made out to be.

Her arms were in perfect strokes, straight and powerful, her head turning and her breathing even.

She reached the wall and squealed with delight.

Draco, seconds behind her, went right up to her and dunked her.

She dove beneath him, disappearing from his view.

He came up spluttering, but could not see her. It was hard enough to see with the goggles on, but he knew she hadn't come up yet.

Panic surged through him as he dove, looking for Hermione.

He half expected to see her body at the bottom, lying motionless on the tiled floor.

After all, she hadn't been very well, and was probably already exhausted from the night before.

He suddenly felt something grab his foot and realized he was being dragged along.

Panic once more filled his body, and he thrashed about, eventually getting the attacker of and breaking the surface.

He found Hermione laughing so much he thought her sides would split.

"Draco…" She couldn't carry on.

Draco pretended to be mad.

Hermione saw the gleam in his eye.

"Oh come one Draco, no no no please…"

She began to move backwards and then dived as he lunged for her.

She squealed as he tried to get her foot.

Very soon they were at the deep end and Hermione had no where to turn.

Draco grabbed her arm, but instead of pushing her away or dunking her he pulled her close and kissed her.

Hermione closed her eyes and Draco wrapped his other arm around her.

They came up for air, and Hermione rested on his shoulder.

…

Their swimming ended when other people began to appear, and soon enough it had gotten busy, so, they decided to leave.

They went back to Draco's room and they ate a delicious sandwich, both hungry after the morning of swimming.

Draco noticed that Hermione ate her food in small pieces, she would tear a piece off her sandwich, but, at least she was eating.

"You know that village?"

"Draco we've been to many villages." Hermione said, lying down on the grassy bank later that day.

"The fishing one, with that old water wheel?"

"Yeah."

"yeah I know it."

"Well, next week they're holding a festival for the day, I thought it would be really cool to go."

"Draco…" Hermione turned over onto her stomach and looked at him.

"Yeah never mind. Stupid idea anyway."

"No Draco, it's not that. I would love to go, really…"

Draco felt it, and said the word before Hermione did, knowing the answer was something he didn't want to hear.

"But?"

"But I leave the day after tomorrow."

Draco couldn't say anything.

He had completely forgotten, how could he forget?

He felt so angry, but it wasn't Hermione's fault. It was then that Draco realized that he was angry at himself.

"Of course you do."

"Draco…"

"Don't say my name like that, I haven't done anything wrong."

And suddenly Draco felt afraid.

It wasn't fear, but defiantly afraid. It wasn't how he felt when his father walked towards him with his wand pointed, the cruciatias curse spilling from his lips. It wasn't how he felt when he thought he had to join the Dark Lord.

He wasn't afraid of Being hurt or trapped. He was afraid of loosing something, someone.

Hermione had really gotten into his heart, and she was the first person to get close to Draco, well second including Draco's mother, that was before she betrayed him.

But Draco was really going to loose Hermione.

He wouldn't let Hermione see him cry.

He wouldn't let Hermione see him hurt.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

The stupidest, worst thing to do.

He ran.

And left Hermione confused.

And left Hermione crying.

And left Hermione hurt.

…

"My dear, are you okay?"

Hermione smiled.

"Yes Mr Schambey."

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, I'm not feeling too well, too much Sun you know? I think I'm just going to go and lye down."

"Oh, take it easy dear."

Hermione got to her room, slammed the door and cried herself to sleep.

She awoke and had a shower before joining her parents for tea.

The food came, and she ate it, she danced, she went back to her room.

Whenever she was with someone else she made herself numb, she was always with her mother, obeying and agreeing with everything, even though she didn't really agree, even though she was screaming inside.

Hermione looked up just as Draco walked through the door.

Suddenly the music was too loud.

Suddenly the world was spinning.

There were to many people.

It was too hot.

She left without a word, and returned to her room, once more to just lie on her bed and fall asleep.

In the morning she woke up, an had a freezing cold shower, that made her feel better. She thought of the swimming they had done, the kissing they had done, everything they shared together.

Then, Hermione decided she was going to be brave.

She didn't know what Draco's problem was, but she wasn't at fault.

She didn't run away.

She didn't make him cry

So, she put on some shorts and a strappy top, tied her wet hair in a loose pony-tail, and left with her head held high.

She didn't see Draco.

At all.

And, even though she was mad at him, pained by him, upset with him, she was still worried.

It was like a constant nagging at the back of her mind.

She decided that just to see him would put her mind at ease, he didn't have to know she'd seen him.

So, Hermione began her long search through the hotel, pausing to greet people she knew.

Eventually she found him.

At the pool. She could see him, he was swimming in even, lon strokes, completely lost in the blue world.

Hermione felt a new stab of pain in her heart.

It was sharp and it hurt.

He was over it.

All that they had done together, all the time and feelings they shared, thrown away at a clock of a finger?

He didn't care to begin with, she thought.

And that, was what hurt her the most.

…

Draco kicked of the wall and moved his arms, tipped his head.

Arms going one, two three, one, two three.

Breathing, under and one and two and to the side and one and under and one and to and to the side.

Every movement being repeated over and over again.

Swimming, to Draco, was a way of letting the steam, the anger, the pain out.

When he was swimming he drove all that into his strokes and breathing, into his kicks and dives.

He would ignore everything else around him and focus just on swimming.

And after, his head felt so much clearer, he was able to think.

He didn't know how or why it worked for him, it just did.

Draco would spend hours swimming without even realizing how long he had been in there for.

But that day was especially long.

He dove in at exactly 10:00 am.

He was able to last for hours in the pool, because of all the swimming, running and Quiditch he did.

At 13:30 pm something made him look up.

He saw Hermione standing by the door, staring at him.

A tear ran down her face before she ran out.

Suddenly Draco felt very tired, very shivery, cold.

He needed to get out.

After showering and getting dressed eh headed down to see his Uncle S. He felt guilty, he hadn't been spending any time with Uncle S, at all.

Soon enough he found him, and just as he was about to walk over he saw a thin figure brush past him.

He knew it was Hermione.

But, what could he say to her?

He didn't even know what had happened.

One minute they were all close and comfy, like a couple almost, and the next it was completely torn apart.

He desperately wanted to go after Hermione, take away her pain, her anger, whatever it was that was hurting her.

But he realized that it was more than likely he was the source of that pain, and, that he was probably the last person she wanted to see right now.

So, he decided to give her time, space, that was what she clearly wanted.

He and Uncle S talked long into the night, about business, weather, Italy, their family, everything except love life.

Really, when you think about it, thought Draco, Malfoys had the unlucky card dealt, when it came to love.

The day for him was torture and soon enough, it was too late.

The hours and night rolled by, and all too soon it was time for the Grangers to leave for the airport.

Draco looked out f his window, watching Hermione hug his uncle before climbing into the limo Mr Schambey had ordered for them to get to the airport.

Hermione, inside the tinted limo looked out, and saw Draco from his window.

He could not see her looking at him, but she saw him looking at the limo she was in.

She was about to jump out but her parents had gotten in and the engine started. She lunged for the door anyway, the car already gaining speed.

The driver saw this, thinking she was running away, he locked the doors

Hermione sat back in her chair, defeated. Exhausted from the sleepless night, tired of all these new emotions, and frustrated for not making her mind up quick enough.

Tears rolled down her face, she knew this was it between them.

Her and Draco.

The next time she saw him would be at school, and she knew he would be his old self there.

She just knew.

It was over , she couldn't believe how quickly she had fallen in love.

And how quickly it ended.

As for Draco, he watched the limo drive away.

He felt a tear escape.

Why was he crying\/

\he hadn't cried for ages, and now he couldn't stop himself.

And it all linked back to her.

He and Hermione.

He knew it was over. It wasn't as if she would coming running into his open arms during school in September was it?

Draco hit the glass.

Did everyone else's opinions really matter? It wasn't about them was it?

Did he really need to be a dick? For other dicks to look up to him?

Did he really need that high status in society, among pure bloods?

"Fuck it."

…

Draco ran as fast as he could.

He hadn't worried about change from the driver, as soon as the taxi had pulled up he was out in a flash.

He ran to the customer service and in one breathless sentence asked where the plane was.

He ran up the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.

It was too slow.

Everyone, everything was too slow.

Eventually he got to where the people were walking through.

He had to explain to five different people that he had to say goodbye, even though he wasn't really, to persuade them he wasn't trying to get on the plane for free.

He really didn't have time for this.

Finally they let him through.

He raced through the tunnel, but it was too late, he could see the outside, the bridge had been taken down, the door shut right in his face, he managed to see a blue carpet before the white door closed up, hiding Hermione from him.

Separating Hermione from him.

He watched numbly as the planes gained speed.

He watched helplessly as the plane took off.

He watched hopelessly as the plane soared through the sky before disappearing out of sight.


	10. Falling

**Author's note: Abi so, so very sorry that this has taken so long!**

**But, now ABi is back into** **swing of things, so hopefully next chapter will be up soon.**

**She hopes you like it and it isn't too much.**

**Comments are appraciated, even critical ones.**

**Abi looks forward to writing more of the story.**

**Check out Abi's other (and few, for now) stories, she doesn't think their as sad as this one.**

**She hopes hearing from everybody soon.**

**Oh, and orange squash has been stocked up!**

**But now, like always**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter 10: Falling

"Get the bloody door open!?" Hermione's father yelled, carrying two suitcases up the garden.

Hermione did as told, going back to the car to get the other suitcases.

Later that night it was back to normal already.

Rachel in the kitchen or backroom, on her mobile or the home phone to all her friends, her wine in a bottle and a glass.

Mark in the front room, arse on the sofa, eyes on the tv, hand on a can of beer.

Hermione in her room listening to music.

She felt empty.

And she knew why.

It was because Draco wasn't there.

Even though she did miss him physically she didn't mean that, she meant that he wasn't there for her, to protect her, help her, love her.

And she loved him so much.

She realized that she would have to get over Draco to be able to carry on.

She realized that he would have stop loving Draco.

But can you do that?

Stop loving someone because you want to?

You can deny the love, hide the love, bury the love deep, deep down inside of you and ignore it forever, but it is still something that is part of you, it isn't something that you can change your mind about, like what your going to eat for tea or what book your going to read next.

Try as you may you can't throw it away like an outgrown jumper or a broken light bulb. It will always be in you, and you can try to ignore it, but feelings are feelings, and are not meant to be ignored.

She couldn't snap her finger and decide she wasn't in love with him anymore, but she could grow and learn to move on.

But for now, she would wallow in self pity.

If only time agreed with her.

…

As it is Hermione didn't have time to lurk in the dark and feel down.

She had secretly hoped that her parents would be better after the holiday.

But, it turned out to be worse.

Not a civilized conversation could be held.

There couldn't be a day when a curse wasn't made.

And through all of this, Hermione didn't matter.

Her parents weren't concerned when she grew upset or afraid.

They didn't care that this wasn't helping her.

They didn't care that she, like them, felt shit.

All they seemed to care about was to jump down each others throats.

One or the other had done something wrong.

One of them would always find a mistake the other had made.

Every little thing, from being in the bath to opening a window cause an argument.

And not once did one of Hermione's parents comfort her, not once did they come up and see her, to tell her that she was alright, that she had done nothing wrong.

One early morning brought sunshine and the smell of fresh cut grass.

Hermione felt it go right through and into her core.

For the first time since Italy, she felt calm, relaxed, happy.

Alas, it was not too last.

That same day Hermione found her father crumpled up on the floor, a note clutched in his hand.

"Dad? Dad what's wrong?" Hermione asked, terrified.

Had he hurt himself? Was he ill?

He simply stood up, took all the money out of the savings jar, slammed the door and left.

Hermione knew he had gone to the pub.

She reached for the crumpled note, unfolding it and sitting down on the sofa.

_Dear Mark,_

_On holiday I met someone. In Italy. His name is Palo. He's rich, funny, handsome. And best of all he's not an alcoholic like you. You know we haven't been getting on. You know this was going to happen sooner or later. You must understand. I did love you. Once. But everything changed when… it just changed._

_I'm sure you know what I mean. About the accident. The mistake. I tried, I really did. But, I don't love you, I haven't for a long time. I met someone else, I love someone else. Be happy for me._

_Rachel._

_P.S. I took all the money out of the bank account. You can use Hermione's._

Hermione read it. And again.

Her mother had left. Taken all the money and left her father.

Left her.

She didn't mention anything about Hermione other than her own bank account and the money in it from the summer job she had gotten at the vets.

What accident?

What mistake?

Hermione ran up to her room.

Her ginger cat Crookshanks her long and trustworthy companion.

She picked him up and cuddled him.

Crookshanks was delighted at the attention but quickly grew quiet when he realized Hermione was upset.

She fell asleep with Crookshanks quite happily on her chest, eyes glowing, completely alert, as if he were trying to protect her from something.

…

A couple of weeks since Hermione's mother had left.

Hermione had tried to talk to her dad, ask him if he was okay, ask him what was the accident or mistake or whatever.

But every time she opened her mouth to say something he would leave, and the two times she had spoken he had simply hit her, sent her flying across the room.

"Your fucking bill! Your FUCKING BILL for your FUCKING CAT!"

Her father stormed into her room where she was asleep.

Hermione woke up, and the look in his eyes scared her to death.

He was angry.

Angry. Insanely angry.

He didn't get this raged, even when drunk.

Hermione's tension, the anger she herself had been holding for weeks now snapped.

"Why do you care? I'm the one who's paying for it! And for everything else! I pay the bills and mortgage and the loan you took out for your car! I'm paying off mum's debts. I'm paying for the food and your beer!"

Hermione was on the verge of tears, and if it had not been for her boiling blood she would have collapsed.

If her father saw that then he might of done something else. Thing might have been different. But she didn't, and he didn't.

"Who gives a fuck?! This is my fucking house and I am you fucking father and you will do as I fucking say!"

"NO I fucking won't!" Hermione screamed back. Maybe if he were a proper father, a father who didn't loose his job because he was almost constantly drunk.

Maybe if he were a father who paid his own loan off.

Maybe if he were a father who loved his daughter.

But he wasn't, and Hermione had gone through what no one her age should have to.

And it was her parents who had put her though all of these years of struggle, misery, confusion, fear.

"Where the fuck is it? WHERE the FUCK is your FUCKING CAT?!"

He turned and stomped down stairs, looking for Crookshanks.

Hermione followed, fear and dread tied in a knot in her stomach.

He found Crookshanks, lunged for his tail as the cat tried to run away. He picked him up by the tail, clearly hurting Crookshanks, and clearly not caring.

Hermione tried to make her father drop him, but, as they entered the kitchen in the struggle, Mark's free fist swung at Hermione's head.

It struck and the blow knocked Hermione to the floor, cutting her head open.

"I am going to fucking show you who the fucking boss is in this fucking house!"

He took a sharp knife out of a drawer and stabbed Crookshanks.

It was sudden, out of nowhere, and it was already too late for Hermione to do anything.

Crookshanks body spilt blood, and Mark through the now corpse at Hermione.

Hermione, cradled her cat and could not say anything.

Crookshanks was dead.

Her cat, her loyal companion and friend, her confider, her one true thing that belonged to her, was murdered at the hands of her own father.

"YOU BASTERD!"

"It was YOUR fault she left. You were the accident, you were the MISTAKE!" Her father screamed in her ear, yanking her hair so her ear was almost pressed against his lip.

She couldn't think.

She couldn't breathe.

"Everything, EVERYTHING was fine until YOU Fucking came along. I would still have my FUCKING WIIFE if YOU had NEVER been BORN! You ruined my FUCKING life."

Hermione didn't see the other knife in her father's hand.

She didn't see the clean, sparkling silver point glinting in the sun.

But the second her father had finished she felt it plunge into he side, just below her rib cage.

She screamed, and he took it out, which hurt almost as much, and jabbed it in again.

Again she screamed.

And even though she was in agony, even though her heart was broken, even though her father had stabbed her twice, she did not cry.

He threw her across the kitchen and out into the hall, stepping over her he went up stairs, washed his hands, grabbed money from his room and left for the pub.

Hermione saw little bright coloured circles, when she heard the door bang she felt it vibrate through her entire body.

Her vision kept getting blurrier until she could not see. She could feel the warm blood oozing out of her.

And she thought of two things.

That, it was the first of September, and everyone would be boarding the train on their way to Hogwarts, while she was lying on the cold tiled floor, loosing blood fast.

And, she was not crying. Not once did she cry, not when she was hurt, not when Crookshanks was killed.

She had decided the day her mother left she would not cry for her parents.

They didn't deserve her tears.

She now knew that she deserved better, she deserved to be loved.

And her parents didn't, all they did was hurt her, and she had had enough.

So as Hermione lay there, blood pouring out, barely conscious, she managed a small smile.

Because, even though her father had ripped out her heart when he killed Crookshanks, and even though he made her feel more pain then she had ever felt in her life, he had not gotten to her.

He had not gotten to her inside, like he always used to do.

Even though he thought he had gotten to her, he had not made her cry and so he hadn't gotten to her, not really.

Hermione felt proud, brave for a moment, just a moment, and a small smile escaped her before she let her head fall onto the floor and her mind into a black, endless void.

……………………..

Draco searched the train, of course he kept his posture and didn't go mental, he acted if he were simply looking, out of boredom.

But, nearing the end of the journey he grew worried.

No one, no one, not even Slytherins forgot September the first, the day they all boarded the train and headed to Hogwarts.

So why, was the school's most able, most talented young witch not there?

Draco could have easily missed Hermione, it was after all a very long train with hundreds of students on.

But then again, if she was going to be anywhere it would be with Weasel and Potter.

Something was at the back of the mind, his instinct was telling him to got o someone, a teacher or something, but logic told him he was paranoid and nervous.

And Draco, never trusting himself, followed logic and not his own instinct.

But when she was not present in the Great Hall, and did not come for the feast, the worrying grew.

It grew until he had to do something.

And so he did.

"Professor, can I talk to you?" Draco elbowed his way through the crowd swarming out of the hall, retiring to their common rooms.

Professor McGonagall was, in simple words, shocked.

She was hated amongst Slytherins, almost every teacher was, of course Professor Snape was excluded form this.

"Mr Malfoy, do you have a problem?"

"I was wondering where Her… where Granger was." Draco asked as casually as he could.

He had no loathing for the head of Gryffindor, and respected her talent for teaching and helping students with other matters.

She was wise, and could probably see right through him, but he could not care less at that moment.

"And why are you concerned about Miss Granger's presence?"

"Because this is her favourite place in the world and she would never pass an opportunity to come back. Especially as she is in her final year in her education! If Hermione could be here, she would." Draco hissed, anger taking him over.

Talking to the Professor, he felt that his instinct was right and logic was wrong, and he was angry at himself for not trusting his instinct.

Honestly, why were they talking about this, when they should be finding Hermione?

"Are you saying Mr Malfoy, that something is preventing Miss Granger from being here."

"That is exactly what I am saying."

"Very well. Let us go and speak to Professor Dumbledore."

Half a year ago Draco would have scoffed at the idea, but he, at least aspects of him, had changed since then, and now had the same respect for Dumbledore that Potter did.

Draco expressed his worries to the Headteacher, and Dumbledore listened without pause, without questioning.

Not that Draco was long mind you, he said he wondered why Granger wasn't there, and McGonagall told her him of Draco's theory that something was stopping her from being here.

"That is most worrying."

"Professor Snape, sorry to disturb you, but there is an urgent matter at hand."

Professor Snape was there in a flash.

"Draco, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Snape and Draco were close, Snape his Godfather, and both hated Luciusfor similar reasons.

Draco could not understand, other than being in Dumbledore's room, why Snape was so concerned with him.

But if Draco could see himself, he would understand.

He was shaking and a peculiar shade of white, his face clearly upset and scared.

"Severus, please join Minerva and apparate to Miss Granger's house."

Snape's lips tightened, but he took McGonagall's arm and apparated.

Moments later they appeared, McGonagall covered in blood and white as a sheet, shivering all over.

Snape also seemed shock, but managed to gain control of himself.

Draco, seeing the blood felt as if he had been thrown of a cliff.

"What's happened to her? What's happened to Hermione?!"

He lunged himself at McGonagall but Snape caught him, and wrapped his arms around Draco, restraining him.

"Professor, I think you should come and see this."

"I cannot leave the school Minerva, I will not leave my students unprotected."

"I agree with Minerva Albus, you should go. The school and it's students are safe so long as Minerva and I are here together."

"Very well, go to Madam Pomfrey and tell her to prepare. Draco, I think you should go and get some rest."

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at Draco, before apparating.

"Professor, what did you see?"

Draco tried to get them talk but neither uttered a word until they reached the hospital ward, where they quietly explained to Poppy, in hushed, whispered tones, and of course, they excluded Draco from this.

As if he were remembered Snape turned to Draco.

"Draco go back to your dorm."

"No."

Snape raised his eyebrow and stared at Draco, demanding with just a look, and explanation of Draco's defiance.

"I am not going anywhere until I know Hermione is okay."

"Draco, as soon as Miss Granger is awake I will personally come and collect you myself. With her permission of course."

Draco knew he wasn't going to get anymore than that, so sticking his chin out as act of defiance, and to purposely show he wasn't happy, he left.

…

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

Draco groaned as two Gryffindor prefects came out of the shadow, the two prefects that he hated most.

"Problem Weasel?" Draco asked, making sure his voice sounded cocky.

"Yeah actually ferret, out of bed after hours."

"I'm a prefect too dip-shit."

Draco was staring at the Weasel but glanced at Potter, only to see him frowning, biting his lip.

"Not on duty tonight though jackass."

"I've been with Snape and McGonagall, and until very recently Dumbledore too."

Draco folded his arms.

Ron laughed.

"Oh okay, I do believe you. Because you never lye to get out of trouble and you always spend time with teachers."

"Go ask them yourself then."

Ron glowered.

"You know what? We'll ask McGonagall tomorrow, if he has been telling the truth then won't we get in trouble for accusing him? You carry on, and I'll walk him back to the dungeons."

Ron was about to protest but Draco stepped forward so he was next to Harry.

Ron glared, before walking off, muttering things like 'nobody is on my side anymore.

"Prick."

"Come one Malfoy."

For a minute or so everything was silent until Harry broke it.

"What happened?" He asked in a small quiet voice.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Malfoy please."

"I really don't, spell it out for me."

"Okay. You're an arrogant prick who never shows his emotions, and yet here you are standing before me shaking, whiter than you normally are, with puffy eyes and a horse voice that shouts like you've been shouting. What's going on."

"It's…" Draco hesitated, would Hermione want Potter to know how close they are? Were, he corrected himself.

"It's… Hermione."

"What about her? Is she okay? Do you know where she is?" Harry rushed, concerned.

Draco felt a stab of jealousy.

"Not sure, hope so and don't know." Draco replied.

Harry stared blankly at him.

"I am not sure, I think she's hurt, I hope she is okay, and no I don't know where she is. Wait a minute. She was at her house but now she's in the Hospital wing, or at least she should be by now."

"Hospital wing?!"

Harry spun around but Draco caught his arm.

"Potter. Snape told me he'd come and get me when she's awake, I'll come and get you on the way."

"You will?"

"Didn't I just say I would?"

"Yes." Harry looked doubtful.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Your quite welcome."

Their talk was stiff, clearly showing no affection for one another but both understood, and accepted that this was not about them, but someone they both cared about.

They continued their walk in silence.

…

The next day Draco received his timetable, barely noticing it he ate breakfast.

As it turned out Snape had not come to collect him.

Once he had eaten a little he made his way to the hospital wing.

"Can I see Hermione now?"

"Afraid not." Madam Pomfrey replied.

"When?"

"I'll let you see her this evening, when your classes are over."

Draco glowered and walked off.

Pomfrey, spending her time in the hospital wing, knew almost as well as the heads of houses themselves, the hatred between the red and gold, and silver and green. From so many fights.

So, she was bewildered at how pushy, nervous and anxious Draco was to see Hermione.

But, talking to Severus and Minerva the previous night she knew that it was Malfoy who had come to see where Granger was. And for that, he must care about her in some way, so Pomfrey would let him see her.

Draco's day was slow, annoying for him and unfortunate for any poor soul who had to sit next to him.

His temper was foul, and he earned a detention and extra essays on the very first day of lessons. He could not wait for class to be over.

And groaned when he saw he had double advanced potions next.

Draco was the first one, and he grumbled and sat down.

People came strolling in, most, in fact all of them Slytherins, apart from Potter.

Snape told people to move to the front as there were only 7 people taking this course, and he saw no reason to shout. Grumbling they moved forward.

And somehow, Potter and Malfoy ended up sitting next to each other.

Snape began his class introduction.

"Welcome to your second and final year of advanced potions. This year will be much harder than the last, and it requires much more effort, dedication and study. I have spoken with Professor Dumbledore, and anyone, who feels unable to cope or carry on with this course should leave immediately and talk to Dumbledore now, and myself later on when the school day is over."

He waited."Does anyone wish to leave?"

Two girls stood, they were very stupid slytherins and only picked advanced potions last year because they thought Snape might go easy on them.

They were clearly wrong.

They left, leaving the class with five, well four today, seeing as Hermione wasn't in lessons.

"The rest of you, will be working in pairs until Christmas. If I do not see any improvement, then I will change the teaching methods. But for now, turn to the person next to you, shake their hands, and be glad that it is not someone worse."

Harry, raised his hand.

"Yes Potter?"

"Sir, what about Hermione?"

Draco watched Snape's expression change, he frowned slightly.

"I believe that Miss Granger can cope with working on her own, and when she needs four hands instead of two, such as making certain potions that require tow people then I will assist."

"DO not mistake me, I will not do any work for anybody, but I will allow her to insruct me on how she thinks the potion should be made, nothing more."

Snape then excused himself, saying he needed to collect something, and left.

"Heard anything about Hermione?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm allowed to see her after lessons, you?"

"No."

They both sighed.

The next two hours were spent with heads over books, quills scratching on parchment. The class were ordered to pick twenty potions in pairs, ones they would prefer to make, the reason didn't matter, but they had to pick twenty together, as a team.

Snape decided that he would pick five from each list that they would be making as a pair, these were simply to test the teams, and see whether or not they could work together.

Then the real work would begin.

"Look Potter, potions means a lot to me, so please try, and if Snape picks on you, just ignore it, he'll admire you more for being able to control yourself. I really want to pass this okay, so just don't mess up for me."

"Same here." Was all Harry replied.

"Can I ask to do a potion?" Harry asked.

Draco frowned, it seemed like Harry was hesitant in asking.

"Can we do Nightdrift potione please?"

Draco was shocked, if Harry hadn't had that look on his face Draco would have laughed out loud.

"But that's like one of the hardest potions to do!"

"I know."

"Why do you need it?" Draco asked, his eyes brightening.

"Why should I tell you?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Because if you tell me then I'll agree to do it."

"I need it."

"That much is obvious, what for?"

"My… headaches, my dreams."

Harry sighed, he could not believe he was telling Malfoy this.

"Look, tell anyone and I'll kill you. But I need it. Sirius used to make it for me, but now… my dreams, my nightmares, they're not normal. They hurt me, physically."

Harry muttered, keeping his voice as quiet as he could.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, confused.

"If I dream I'm being beaten up then I will wake up with all the bruises, if I dream I've been shot in the arm, then I wake up with wound in my arm, bullet there and all. If I dream I die…"

Draco felt sick.

"Nightdrift stops me from dreaming. It knocks me out, I have been taking it for three years and know what quantities to take and everything. I just need more of the blooming potion."

Draco sighed, that wasn't so bad, was it?

"I know what your thinking, but trust me it's that bad. Because it's not only my dreams… if he dreams about hurting me, using the forbidden curses on me, then it happens. I don't have my own room for no reason."

Draco made an oh shape with his lips, and quickly scribbled down the Nightdrift potion.

Potions passed rather quickly, considering that he had to spend it with Potter, but it really wasn't that bad.

He didn't like Potter, but he could… tolerate him.

As soon as the bell went Draco left without a word and almost ran to the hospital wing.

Not uttering one word from her lips Pomfrey led Draco through the hospital wing, and pointed to a door, near then end of the room.

Draco walked through, shutting the door behind him.

He turned, and stared.

Her skin was deathly white, her mangled, her expression troubled, hurt, even though she wasn't conscious.

He could see the blanket had been folded down so it only reach her waist, and around her waist he saw bandages.

He walked over, pulled the only chair next to her bed, sat down and gently touched her hand.

It was so… cold.

She looked, felt, so fragile, he was afraid to break her.

But you've done that already haven't you? A voice whispered in his head.

He could bear to see Hermione like this, to see her in pain.

A tear escaped, then another, and after that they just came pouring down, rolling off his cheeks, and dripping down on to Hermione's bed.

He spent ages muttering the same things over and over again.

"I'm so sorry."

"Get better."

"Don't leave me."

"I love you."

Draco didn't know how much time had passed, he didn't know of Madam Pomfrey had come to check up on him.

But eventually the lack of sleep from the night before gathered up on him, and he fell asleep, his head resting next to Hermione's arm.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A voice hissed, waking Draco.

"I'm visiting Hermione." Draco said simply, still not awake properly.

"And, ferret, what makes you think that she wants to see you?"

Because I love her. Because I hope she loves me. Draco said silently, in his head.

"And what makes that any of your business?" Draco asked.

"Because… because…"

"It doesn't does it? Your not her boyfriend, your not her friend, you've treated her like shit. And what makes you think that she'd be interested in seeing you?" Draco asked, sneering.

"Your fucking…"

At that moment Harry walked down.

He ignored the two fuming boys and went straight over to Hermione, kissing the top of you head.

"Keep your voice down. This isn't about either of you, it's about Hermione. Ron, get a hold of that bloody temper of yours, the last thing she needs right now is bloody shouting. Malfoy, I know you're here because of her, but can you please try to understand. Ron's here, you've already seen her, and don't you think she'd rather you have her visit her, when you and Ron aren't screaming down each other's necks?"

Draco gave one nod.

He looked at Harry, and Eon saw an understanding pass between the two, but he didn't know what it was.

Draco moved to Hermione, then stopped, remembering there were other people in the room. With one last look at Harry, and then Hermione he nodded to Harry, pushed passed Ron and walked, calmly, gracefully out of the room.

"Ron…"

But Ron cut him off.

"What the fuck Harry? What the hell was that about? What, have you formed some secret gang with the ferret that I know nothing about?"

Just then, they turned to Hermione, whose had let out a low moan.

"Draco." She whispered, before settling down soundly again.

Harry went to speak, but again, Ron got there first.

"Save it for your new best friend." Ron hissed, and stormed out of the room."

In potions the next day Harry and Draco had a short conversation.

"Hermione whispered your name last night." Harry muttered, watching Draco tense.

"Malfoy, I need to know what's going on between you two." Harry said.

Draco let out a long breathe, calming himself.

"Look what has happened between Hermione and I, is exactly that, between Hermione and I. But I have nothing what so ever to do with why she's like this."

Draco said it very clearly, and Harry caught the threat on the edge of his voice.

"I'm not saying you hurt her…"

"Look, when she wakes up, if she wants to tell you then fine." Draco said, and Harry knew he wasn't going to get any more out of Malfoy.

Harry was very confused about Malfoy and Hermione.

He remembered them on the train, and how Malfoy had looked after her.

But something had happened since.

He just hoped he could talk to her soon.

…

The next few days Draco visited Hermione every day, from four until seven.

When Harry told him Hermione had woken up Draco froze.

Suddenly he was scared.

Scared of what?

Of being betrayed, like his mother had done to him, of being rejected when he loved her so much, of being blamed for whatever happened.

Soon enough Hermione came back to classes.

She looked well enough, apart from when she would bed over, or stand up to quickly and grab her side.

She had changed though.

She didn't want to see Ron, and didn't tell Harry what had happened.

The one person that understood, the one person she needed, wanted to talk to hadn't come to see her.

He hadn't spoken to her.

And she was trying so hard not to cry.

"Why have you stopped seeing her?" Harry asked Draco in potions, Hermione was talking to Snape.

Draco didn't answer.

"Do you want me to tell her you did visit her?" Harry asked, and again Draco didn't answer.

Draco didn't answer, because, Draco didn't know.

"I don't get it. You see her every day when she's unconscious, your worried about her and have to be kicked out by Pomfrey, and yet when you she can talk to you you don't say a word! It doesn't make any sense."

Draco was about to reply when a shadow fell over their desk.

They both looked up to see Hermione.

She heard, Draco thought.

Hermione caught his eyes, he saw confusion and pain and suffering, he looked away, his stomach knotted, he couldn't breathe.

Everyone packed up and Snape dismissed them, everyone sighed with relief, the weekend was here.

"Miss Granger please stay behind for a moment."

Hermione sat back down as the class left.

Draco was the last to leave, and he looked back, before disappearing.

"Miss Granger, have you talked to Professor McGonagall about this?"

"A little."

"Any friends?"

"No sir."

"Hermione…" Snape moved forward, clasping his hands together and resting his arms on the table before continuing.

"Hermione, I have a couple of things to discuss. First of all, I feel that you should know, Draco was the one concerned about you missing."

"Draco?" It hurt Hermione to say his name, but she managed to do so.

"Yes. He went to Professor McGonagall, who went to Professor Dumbledore."

"Secondly, Professor McGonagall and I saw you at your house, with a knife in your side, unconscious, blood all around you and your cat dead in the next room."

"It was my father." Hermione whispered looking up.

"What?"

"It was my father." Tears filled her eyed and she cried.

Snape, felt furious, upset.

Snape was a strict teacher, many thought he had no heart, but had had. He just didn't waste his time on petty little things.

But, for one's father to do that to them, inside their own home.

Every child should feel safe, be safe in their own home.

And yet Snape could name three who weren't.

Granger, Malfoy, Potter.

All he could do for now, was to walk around the table and hug Hermione, comfort her as she cried.

He thought she was crying because she her father had done this to her.

Hermione knew she was crying because in the space of a month she had lost one of her best friends, a mother, a father, a most treasured cat and loyal companion and her one, true love.

Though she knew she had lost these people ion the midst of it all, she could not see that she had lost one more person.

The days ahead for her would be hard and miserable, fearful and lonely, she would not be able to pull herself out of the dark fog that had already spread and engulfed her soul.

Because.

Hermione had lost herself.


	11. Starting Christmas

**Author's note: Chapter 11 up!**

**Hope Abi didn't keep you waitng.**

**A word on crying, crying is very good and a healthy way to let out anger, misery, jealousy or disappointment, that's what Abi thinks!**

**ABi is terrible for crying she cries and most books and lots of movies.**

**She has cried at evey Harry Potter book, and every Harry Potter film, well the ones that are out- 1-5, apart from the Philosipher's stone!**

**Crying workd for lots of people, so if your down, like way at the bottom of the world, than have a cry, make yourself feel better!**

Chocolate is also another excellent way!

**But, crying and chocolate are a dangerous combination, it is more likely that you'll feel sluggish after.**

**So try either or both- not at the same time!**

**Abi hopes you enjoy this chapter, and chapter 12 hopefully will be up soon!**

**Goodness Abi can blabber can't she?**

**Bye bye!  
**

**Enjoy...**

Chapter 11: Starting Christmas

Over the next few weeks school settled down and the students began to drift back into the routine.

Hermione felt that this year was very different.

She hardly spoke, never raised her hand in class, and rarely attracted attention to herself.

Everyone had noticed the change in the wise, fiery, passionate girl.

There were many rumours as to why, all developed from curiosity of the time when she was in the hospital wing.

Some said that it was The Dark Lord, trying to get to Harry Potter.

Others argued that all the knowledge had turned her mental, she had found out something know one should know.

Some suggested that she had finally fallen in love, and that her lover had hurt her.

Draco Malfoy flinched when he heard this, because it was partially true, it was partially his fault that she was like this.

But what he could do? If Hermione wanted to talk to him, want him, then she would say.

He saw her trying to melt in with the corridors, he saw her trying to eat, he saw trying.

And that's what hurt him most.

What he couldn't understand is why Potter, bloody Potter, her best friend, was keeping his distance, and then he looked closely to find that it was Hermione keeping her distance from him.

Because of the Weasel.

Stupid red, lanky, Weasel.

Hermione didn't want to ruin their friendship, so she stayed away, full stop.

It did seem though, she had someone to talk to.

She stayed behind every potions class, seeing as it was advanced and the lesson needed a double period to get anything done, it was at the end of the day.

Draco took comfort in Snape.

HE was closer to Snape than his own father, and Snape, once being Lucius's best friend, felt the parental responsibly for Draco.

In the summer, while Draco would be looking for a home, and a job, he was more than welcome to stay around Snape's house.

But this Hermione confiding in Snape, trusting him, did Snape that little bit of justice.

It proved he wasn't some horrid monster.

It eased the weight on Draco's shoulders just a little.

Potions was still the hardest subject to be in.

Where he was daily given the opportunity to speak to her.

Where was aware of everything she done, every moved she made, even if he didn't want to be.

So, life at Hogwarts had changed for a handful of seventh year students;

Friends lost,

Heartbreaks,

Enemies gathering the same thing, the same one in common,

And above all else;

Fear, for each other, fear for the future.

…

The weeks rolled by and passed into months, until, Christmas was just a few weeks away, the holidays about to begin.

Draco had not been on many school trips lately, so when a Hogsmade weekend came up he was almost bouncing up and down with the need to escape.

Get out of the school, if only for a few hours.

School, for Draco had been dreadful.

On top of the whole Hermione can't bear to be around me, he had guessed from the way she refused to meet his eyes or talk to him; the on; he had walked past her- accidentally brushing her arm- she had frozen before running, anyway besides that agonizing heartache there was the fact that Mr Popular had no friends, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have found a new shepherd to follow, Pansy didn't talk to him, and even the teachers were behaving odd.

He wanted to get away.

He had been spending most of his free time running just on the border of the Forbidden forest, the school grounds lacked a swimming pool, of course at first he swam in the lake, but it had frozen over now, being mid December and all.

So when he got up nice and early on his way to the great hall, for the first time in a while spirits high, he bumped into none other than the Weasel.

"Problem ferret?" He hissed.

"Not at all Weasel. But you might want to check that sigh of yours." Draco said it simply, he was not in the mood to fight Weasel.

Weasel grabbed Draco with surprising force and pushed him up against the wall.

"Its your fault Hermione won't talk to me! All of this is your fucking fault!"

Draco took in a breathe so he wouldn't punch the red head's lights out before answering.

"No, I am quite sure you managed to maker her loathe you all on your own, in July on the train."

Ron glowered at Draco.

He then took one arm and punched Draco in the stomach, before moving to hit his face.

He spat on the floor, where Draco lay, before walking off.

Draco felt rather dizzy, tasting blood on his lip and unable to see through one eye.

HE also realized he couldn't scrunch his face up with feeling immense pain in his nose.

Great, he sighed to himself, getting up, and managing to fix the nose but having no energy, patience or interest to fix the others.

He sat at the end of the table, near a set of doors, away from the teachers so he could make rude comments back if they were thrown at him, which more often than not were.

People stared at him, as he bit into his toast.

He concentrated on not looking at anyone, concentrated on keeping his temper down, cooling the blood that was begging to rage and boil.

When he was at Hogsmade he went to the Three Broomsticks and ordered a Butter Beer.

He sat in the quietest corner, alone at a table.

He heard two people walk through the door.

Potter and Hermione.

She had a smile on her face.

After so long of being alone, Hermione looked happy there, with her best friend beside her for once.

It caught Draco, the tiny light in her eyes, like there used to be, life, hope.

Draco felt tears sting behind his eyes, and he felt the small smile appear on his face, even though he could feel the tears building up he knew he wouldn't cry.

"Mind if I join you?" A voice asked, ripping Draco's eyes from Hermione.

"Professor? What are you doing here?" Draco asked, moving over so his Godfather could sit down beside him.

Snape sat down, a Butter Beer in hand and sighed.

"Sir… are you all right?"

"Hmmm." Snape answered, absent minded.

"Snape what's wrong?" Draco lowered his voice, looking at the Potions master, concerned.

"It's…" Snape's eyes watered before he could continue.

"Remus. He's not back yet." Snape whispered, looking at Draco.

Draco knew all about Lupin and Snape.

After Lupin had returned as a teacher in Draco's third year decided to leave at the end of it, the DADA teacher and Potions master went out and got absolutely hammered, completely out of character- for the both of them.

They wound up sleeping together, and had been in love ever since.

Lupin, much like Snape was, was a spy for the order. He would go underground, hang around with the werewolves and the rats, trying to get as much information as he could.

Of course he was never gone for more than a week.

But he had been gone for nine days, and it was driving Snape mad.

Dumbledore thought it a little to early to send out a search party.

Snape thought it a little too late.

"I'm sure he's fine." Draco patted Snape on the back, as the older man rested his head in his hands.

"What happened to your face?" Snape asked, without looking up.

"Your face Draco. Split lip, black eye." Snape said.

"Oh, it's nothing, don't worry about it."

"What did you do this time?" Snape sighed, turning to face Draco.

"Why is always fucking me who's done something wrong. I said nothing, done nothing, leave it." Draco snapped, pursing his lips together to prove he was going to say nor more on the topic.

They sipped their Butter Beer in silence, not paying any attention to the buzzing of conversation or noise in the rest of the building.

"Professor?"

"Yes Draco?" Snape could hear that distinct tone in Draco's voice, the thirst for knowledge, the desire to know more, it was much like the tone Snape had when he was a student at Hogwarts.

"I want to know about Nightdrift."

"Nightdrift is a deadly poison. Instead of working around the body, flowing through it and physically harming it like most potions do, it works, poisoning your mind. Tasting it, having it flow through your veins puts you under a strange drunkenness. It takes away hope and love, desire and passion, your will to live. It must be a horrible way to die, destroying the soul, oh and it is without antidote."

Draco sat fascinated.

How did it work on Potter?

"I couldn't help noticing that it was on your list. And was wondering whether it was your or Mr Potter who came up with the idea."

Draco just nodded.

"Sir? When are we going to actually start working on our chosen potions?"

"After Christmas."

"Huh."

Snape knew Draco was about to ask why, if they were told so early, was Snape leaving it so late to do, but Snape couldn't take many more questions.

"How is Sidius?" Snape asked, changing the subject.

"Uncle S? He's fine. He got a new girl on his arm at the moment. Hotel is great, he said he would like to see you." Draco said, remembering the letter form hid uncle.

"Did you learn any Italian over the summer?"

"Ciao." Draco mumbled.

Snape sighed, again, before getting up, saying goodbye and departing.

Draco hoped he would be okay.

Draco stretched and left, deciding to go for a walk.

He looked in many shops, not buying anything.

He spent hours just walking around, looking at things.

He did buy a new quill and new bottle of ink.

Draco started walking randomly, and ended up on a hill, looking at the sky.

It was a greyish whitish grey.

Down and to his left was Hogsmade, he could see the roofs of the shops, hear the distant talking of his fellow students.

Suddenly feeling the need to rest, he lay down, exhaustion taking over his body.

He didn't dream, or feel. Just slept, finally allowing the sleep he had been denying to catch up with him.

He awoke to find a brilliant sun set before him.

He knew he had been asleep for a while.

Shuddering he put his cloak on, still feeling groggy as he tried to walk.

He knew it was growing dark quickly, and students were heading back to Hogwarts.

Walking down the hill he saw only a couple of people left in the village.

"See, I told you this would be fun! I told you it was what you needed." One voice, recognized as Potter said.

"You were right, all right? I can't wait to make this new hot chocolate."

Draco panicked, he couldn't see her, face her, not now sleepy, and not having his guard up.

Should he wait for them to pass? Should he try and make it, go ahead of them?

He couldn't tell how far away, or how close they were.

But Draco, with good reason, had developed a fear of being outside after dark.

He took his chances and sped up, hoping he wouldn't meet them as their roads crossed.

Big mistake.

He tripped over something sticking out of the ground, and fell down the steep hill, instead of walking down the narrow path.

He landed on his back, groaning.

Humiliating much?

"Hey mate, you okay?"

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder.

Crap.

It was Potter, which meant Hermione was there also.

"I'm fine." Draco mumbled, thanking the stars that the hood to his cloak was up.

Of course Potter being Potter spun him around when Draco tried to walk away, his hood fell, reviling his snow blond hair.

He heard a gasp to see Hermione a little behind Potter.

For a second their eyes met.

They both saw pain, confusion, rejection in the eyes they were staring into.

Of course, they might as well as been looking at their own reflection.

Draco felt the stinging sensation behind his eyes, and turned and ran without saying a word.

But, before he left, Hermione could make out a shimmering gleam, falling down his cheek.

…

What was that?

What does it mean?

Should I talk to him?

Her stomach tightened in a knot, answering that question for her.

She sighed, and turned over in her bed.

One week ago, she had seen Draco.

She had seen his split lip and black eye.

She had seen the pain and the confusion and the fear in his ice blue spheres.

Hermione again moved, trying to get comfortable.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't switch her mind off.

She could not get him out of her head.

The image she had of him.

Beaten to a pulp, his despair obvious to see in his eyes and body, the tear running down his cheek.

Hermione looked at the clock again.

4:00 am.

The holidays had started, the pressure was off for three weeks, she should feel relieved.

She should, but she didn't.

And then, there it was again. That feeling in her.

She bolted for the toilets, managing to stick her head down the loo before retching.

How long had this been going on for now?

A week or two or three.

Not every day, or morning she should say, but it was happening more often.

As she finally sat down, shaking and exhausted, leaning against the wall she thought about it.

I really should go and see Madam Pomfrey, she said in her head.

And then, out of nowhere a pain hit her, not actually hit her, but it took her by surprise, and, it was coming from inside.

Just below her stomach, it was a sharp pain, that sent tingling all up her spine.

She worked on her breathing, suddenly cold on the bathroom floor.

As she began to calm an image popped into her head.

It was of Draco, smiling one of his best smiles, beaming, the thought of it made her smile.

It was then that she realized two things.

1. No matter how hard she tried to deny, hide or ignore it, she still loved Draco, she always had, ever since that day on the train, another lifetime ago it seemed.

2. Something was inside her, she just knew. But, instead of worrying over it, she felt strangly protective, a strange feeling over morning sickness.

And then, she turned pale, breathing uneven and started shaking again.

She counted dates, going back on her fingers.

Shaking, she tried again.

She got the same answer.

Nothing interesting had happened over that period of time.

And she groaned hitting her head against the wall.

Period.

That small, irritating part of her life that she was constantly annoyed with.

She hadn't had one in the last four months.

Of course the last four months was a blur, she hadn't really been paying attention to anything besides schoolwork and Harry.

But as she thought back, she grew more and more confidant she hadn't had one since before…

Italy.

NO! Screamed her mind, and she ran to the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, lifting her pyjama top up, tearing it slightly.

And sure enough, as if to prove her theory, a tiny, subtle bump stood out against the rest of her flat body.

…

"Hermione? Hermione?" Harry asked, nudging Hermione slightly.

Hermione wasn't like this.

She normally treasured the rare time she spent with Harry.

Ron was nowhere to be found, and it was perfect in harmony in the common room.

At least it was apart from Hermione's racing mind.

Of course, no one could hear that but Hermione herself.

"Hermione, do you want some water, you look pale."

Harry got her some without her answering.

Hermione hadn't quite gotten over the shock yet, but it was dying down.

She didn't know how she felt.

As soon as she thought about it her heart raced and dropped ten thousand feet, it was kind of hard to concentrate on anything but the pounding of her own heart.

The fact that she couldn't think of anything else didn't help either.

She couldn't clear her head enough to think reasonably.

"I'm going to for a walk." Hermione said, standing up slowly.

"Want company?"

"No thanks Harry. If I'm not back in two hours send out a search party."

Harry laughed, feeling some what relived.

Hermione had begun being sarcastic and teasing him because he had become over protective.

Soon enough Hermione found herself in her favourite and worst place.

The potions classroom.

She had spent many hours here, talking to Snape, that helped, talking.

A little, it helped.

But, it was the wrong person she was telling.

She should be telling him all this, not Professor Snape.

Hermione suddenly felt tired, she had to sit down.

She felt the tears beginning, and once they came, she couldn't stop.

It wasn't that she was necessary upset or scared…

Scrap that, she was scared shitless.

But more then anything she was confused.

Crying would do her good.

That's how Hermione got over things.

She cried to the point of exhaustion, and then fell asleep, waking up and having a shower.

She felt so much better after this process.

She breathed in and out with her eyes closed, tears escaping from them.

"Hermione?"

"Oh sorry Professor."

She opened her eyes as Snape helped her up.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"I'm fine." She took a breathe and smiled.

"Sorry, I just wanted some piece and quiet. I should have asked."

"Not a problem, but I hope you can cope without my counselling for a couple of weeks."

"Your leaving?"

"yes. I'm going to spend Christmas with… a friend." He nodded, as if he were trying to prove that that was the correct word.

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Professor Snape, I hope we aren't talking about a certain young, dashing, shaggy werewolf."

Snape's jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"I have ears you know."

Snape raised one eyebrow.

"When I was talking to you and you fell asleep, on the last day of term, you said his name. Quite a lot."

Snape's grey cheeks reddened.

Snape, the professor Snape as blushing.

"Well, it, erm… I…" He was cut off by Hermione squealing before running into his arms, hugging him.

"Congratulations! You deserve to be happy Professor, both of you do."

"Thank you very much." Snape, despite himself smiled as he caught Hermione's glee when she finally realised him.

"Oh wait. This means that Lupin is back. Harry will be thrilled! He's spent weeks worrying… I actually think he lost some hair…"

Snape cut her off.

"Harry has been worrying about Remus?"

Hermione squealed.

"That is so cute! The way your getting jealous." She took a breathe before continuing on a more serious tone.

"After Sirius died, Lupin and Harry got real close. Lupin is kind of a… I wouldn't say father, nobody would be able to take Sirius's place, more of an uncle to Harry."

Snape just shaped his mouth into an 'oh', the fiery rage of jealousy calming down.

"Send me a Christmas present!"

Snape couldn't help but laugh.

Hermione had been completely and utterly depressed until she finds out that her former most hated teacher was gay, together with somebody she knew, and shagging that somebody, who was in fact a werewolf.

And suddenly she was as right as rain.

For now.

"Hermione, I will only send you a Christmas present if you send me one."

Hermione nodded, before telling Snape to pack and leave already.

Snape watched as Hermione almost skipped out of the room.

She was positively glowing.

"Whoa! What happened to you?" Harry asked, seeing Hermione smiling.

"Nothing to do with you. Have you tried writing to Lupin again? I would give it another try, you know?"

Harry was slightly taken aback.

If he didn't know her any better he would say Hermione had gone crazy.

Hermione's over joy didn't last long.

It in fact lasted until 3:47 am, when her head was once more down the toilet.

She was so grateful that she was the only Gryffindor girl staying in Hogwarts for the holidays.

She couldn't keep this up.

Now she knew it was always on her mind.

She would have to tell him.

He had the right to know.

If he didn't want anything to with it, then that was fine, Hermione just felt like he had to know.

She just had to gather enough strength to face him.

…

Hermione began worrying over what to say when to do it.

She was driving herself mad.

Until, she had enough.

She was in bed, unable to sleep.

She looked at the clock, which read 11:21 pm.

Stuff it. The words formed in her head.

_**Draco, **_

_**I know this is stupid hour a clock, and I know I could get you in to trouble, but if I don't do this then I think I might just end up loosing it. **_

_**Please meet me by the lake, a.s.a.p. **_

_**Hope to see you there.**_

She read it, deciding it was the best she could come with, she tied it to Hedwig, Harry wouldn't mind.

It was only after she had sent Hedwig through the window and into the night, that she realized she hadn't written her name.

Stupid!

She changed into jeans and a jumper and her warmest cloak, before sneaking out.

She waited, pacing up and down, minutes seemed like hours, but her watch hardly moved from when she had last looked at it.

She kept moving around, from facing the lake, to walking back towards the school and back towards the lake.

Eventually she sat down, leaning against the old oak tree.

The gentle snow had stopped, for now at least.

She saw a figure approaching, and as the silhouette lowered the hood to reveal white blond hair, lit up in the moonlight.

Another wave of nerves was washed away, a new one replacing it.

He stopped, not meeting Hermione's eyes, staring out at the lake.

Now the moment had come, Hermione felt all confidence drain from her.

"I…"

Draco didn't turn to look at her, but held his hand up.

"Can I speak first please?"

Hermione nodded, unable to talk.

"I…" He took a breathe before continuing.

"I know I have probably caused you a great deal of pain. I do not know what happened to us Hermione, to makes us so apart, after we seemed so close. All I know that since August you have been in my head, in my heart and nothing else has."

"I've been so confused and angry, I should have spoken to you before now, and for that I am sorry. But I have no idea how this got out of hand."

Draco turned to face Hermione, tears streamed down his face, still not meeting her eyes.

"All I know is that I don't regret one moment of the time we spent in Italy, I do not regret one movement I made with you, nor one word I said to you. I knew that note was from you, and I came here, ready to face whatever it is you have to say, whether you hate my guts, or whether, like I dare hope, am foolish to hope, that you might feel the tiniest bit of what I feel for you."

His breathing was uneven, like he was struggling very hard not to break down.

"All I know is that I love you Hermione. And trying to move on, hasn't worked, ignoring it hasn't worked. I am stuck. And, even thought this is entirely selfish and unfair for me to say, I hope you haven't moved on. I hope you might still want me."

"I have on mistake, on regret from August, from Italy. I wish that I could have been faster, made up my mind, realized how much you meant... mean, to me quicker."

Hermione couldn't breathe.

He knelt down and leaned forward, he looked into her eyes, and his voice became a whisper.

"That day. That day you left. I came after you Hermione, I came after you. But I was too late."

He closed his eyes and somehow a second had managed to roll out into forever.

He opened them, to find Hermione staring back at him, tears pouring down her face, skin pale, features frozen in a state of shock.

A lump caught in his throat.

"I'm so sorry, I'll go." His voice was still a whisper.

He turned to leave.

Hermione could find one word.

NO! As he turned to leave she grabbed his arm, she didn't even think about it, it was instinctive, her subconscious realizing she needed him in order to survive.

"No. Don't go. Just, just give me a second."

Her voice was also a whisper.

She breathed and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You might not want me after this." She warned. Before clearing her throat.

Draco was ready to argue, ready to say nothing could stop him from wanting her, from loving her, but the words stayed on his tongue, and he kept silent.

She was still looking into his eyes, still holding onto his arm, as the following words came out of her mouth, barely even a whisper.

"I'm pregnant."

It was Draco's turn to be speechless.

Draco felt as though he had been thrown a thousand feet into the air.

But he composed himself, long enough, at least to ask Hermione some very important questions.

"Mine?" The word slipped out hesitantly, as if the word itself knew it was wrong, and Draco could nothing to stop it.

Her face turned at that, filled with disbelief.

"Okay, stupid question, my mistake." Of course it was his, how could he even doubt that?

"How do you feel? Do you want to keep it?"

Hermione looked away, this was the same question she hade been turning over and over in her head these past few days.

Draco tried another one.

"Do you want an abortion? Give it up for adoption?" Even saying those words hurt him.

"NO!!" Hermione shouted, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

It seemed as if that one word would wake up the entire word, after all the whispering they had been doing.

"Well I guess that sets it straight." Draco whispered, leaning forward so his forehead touched Hermione's.

She pulled back, she had to be certain that he would go through with this, that he wanted to go through with this.

"What about you? How do you feel?" She whispered, never leaving his gaze.

Draco cringed, how could she think that he wouldn't want their baby?

But then, he checked himself and didn't let it go deep, because she probably wasn't herself at this precise moment.

Draco stood up, gently pulling her up with him.

He glanced at the moon, and then at the watch on Hermione's arm to check the time was right.

00:00.

He looked down at her before picking her up and whirling her around in a circle.

Carefully putting her feet back on the floor he gazed into her eyes, keeping all her weight on him still.

He raised one hand to her cheek, and against her sense she closed her eyes and leaned into it.

She opened them as he moved his hand down under her chin, lifting it up.

"I think it's the greatest Christmas present ever." He whispered.

He leaned down, and gently, gracefully, perfectly, his lips met hers, and they shared a tender, loving kiss.

They pulled apart, smiling, lost in one another's sparkling, twinkling eyes.

"Merry Christmas." She whispered, moving on to tiptoes, and wrapping her arms around Draco's neck.

His arms moved down and wrapped around her waist, he pulled her closer to him, and as Hermione's arms fell down to rest on his chest snow started to fall lightly around them, embracing them and at peace utterly, completely, perfectly content for this one moment that they would never forget.


End file.
